


i live in fear of the things i yearn for (i love them all the more for it)

by unchartedandunknown



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Established Relationship, Full Cast - Freeform, I’m apologizing in advance to the theatre kids, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, ashen wolves spoilers, this fic has a body count of two and in both circumstances it is Sylvain, this is just my byhardt hp fic but two steps back and to the left
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:02:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 50,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26031571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unchartedandunknown/pseuds/unchartedandunknown
Summary: How do two students on different Quidditch teams pretending they’re not in a relationship get pulled into performing leading roles in their school’s musical while still trying to keep their relationship under wraps?Answer: Dorothea Arnault.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 26





	1. you haven’t experienced the triumphs and defeats, the epic highs and lows of school quidditch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [featherx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/featherx/gifts).



> Heads up for shifting between past tense and present tense in-chapter

King’s Cross station has long disappeared behind them as Yuri slouches onto the rattling window of the train. Across from him, Hapi’s dozing onto Constance’s shoulder as she reads a book, likely getting a far ahead head start in the school’s required reading, the tryhard. The trolley lady has already passed their compartment, and Balthus keeps throwing Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans at Yuri like he’s trying to goad a cat into a game of fetch.

“If you’re looking to lose an arm you can keep going Balthus, but I assure you I won’t hesitate to hex your ass before we get to school.”

Balthus throws his head back and roars a laugh that can probably be heard outside the compartment. “Try me.”

Constance’s head surfaces from the confines of her book to glare irritatedly at the two as Yuri’s wand slips out of his sleeve in itchy anticipation for a potential duel. “Can you two save your bickering for the pitch? We haven’t even arrived at Hogwarts yet, and we’re already going to be thrown into trouble because of you two.”

“Constance is right,” Balthus says with a smirk. “We’ll settle this on the pitch this year, too, and prove that Gryffindors are the superior house.”

“Superior?” Yuri repeats, and laughs. “Maybe superior in the amount of detentions received total per house. Tell me, how many points did you lose last year with Gryffindor students gallivanting about the castle after curfew?”

“It’s not like we’re the only ones sneaking around!”

“No, but your house _is_ the one that gets caught the most often.” Yuri flicks a bean off his seat. “There’s something to be said about that.”

“Loud, brash and obnoxious certainly suit a person’s first thoughts of what a Gryffindor is,” Constans says offhandedly.

“What’s wrong with loud, brash, and obnoxious?”

In the commotion, Hapi stirs awake to pat Balthus on the knee twice in comfort and mutter, “Nothing wrong with that, B. You do you.” Her mouth twists into a frown. “Or don’t. I don’t care. I’m going back to sleep. Wake me when we’ve arrived.”

Eager to please and save herself the trouble of doing it later, Constance spells the blinds shut, lauding them into muted darkness. Sunlight blisters weakly through the cracks as Balthus switches on the light above them, buzzing and dirt yellow. Yuri leans into his hand to watch the three of them, all lost in their own little world - even Balthus, who pulls out his earbuds, not wanting to disturb Hapi. Yuri’s never been one for sentimentality, but he supposes there’s something to be said about how this is the last time the train will be taking them to their final destination, and the second last time they’ll be taking the train. There’s much to be done in their seventh year; classes to partake in, matches to win, finals to survive.

If everything wasn’t as bad as last year, it would be a welcome change.

Yuri plugs in his own earbuds to listen to a podcast, and their compartment remains silent all the way, punctured by the sounds of Constance flipping a page or Balthus or Yuri unwrapping candy to tide them over the ride.

Hogwarts looks the same as always, which Yuri supposes is the charm of it, that forever childlike wonder - the same welcoming, glowing lights, the warmth inside the castle walls, the hum of magic almost glistening, lifelike in the air.

Yuri knows better now than to be fooled by the safety emanating from the castle; this place has as many dangers lurking around its corners as any others would. He won’t be fooled again.

He keeps himself on his toes.

They’re gathered up and separated into their respective house tables, waiting for the first years to arrive from the lake. He catches a glint of dull gray two tables and suppresses the urge to linger over it and look again, tight as the motion hangs over his body.

The first years arrive a bumbling mess as they do every year, some stumbling on too-long robes, all pale faces and queasy expressions. Yuri sighs; honestly, the Sorting Ceremony is the least of their worries - Yuri certainly wasn’t worried when he arrived. Then again, he also hadn’t cared about which house he would be sorted into.

Yuri tunes out the starting ceremony. It’s the same thing every year after the orchestra stops playing Hogwarts’ theme song, with Headmistress Rhea’s speech welcoming students both old and new to Hogwarts, the Sorting Hat’s song about the four houses and the first years’ ceremony. He claps politely whenever a new student’s brought to their table as Claude welcomes them, as per his Head Boy duties. Hapi’s slumped head a few tables away threatens to drop into her empty plate every few minutes, but she seems attentive enough to sit up every once in a while or be shouldered into waking by Annette, unlike Linhardt at the Ravenclaw table, who has forgone all niceties and has his face planted into his plate. The other Ravenclaws have left the boy be, far too used to this behaviour. No matter how magical Hogwarts is, you go through this routine six times, you’re sure to be bored of it by the seventh.

The ceremony ends with a dazed first year beelining to the Hufflepuff table amidst relieves cheers and congratulations of students, both for the Hufflepuff house and for the fact that the welcoming ceremony is now over. With a wave of Headmistress Rhea’s hand, food appears on the tables, and everyone digs in. The Great Hall quickly becomes raucous. Hilda and Dorothea chat about their plans for the school year as Cyril passes a basket of rolls to one of the second years and Constance insists on piling more food onto Lysithea’s plate besides cake. Yuri listens in to each conversation, taking in the ease of everyone’s interactions and the comfort of not being alone as he sends a small smile to Bernadetta further down the table, who seems to be trying to make herself as small and inconspicuous as possible.

The houses are escorted out of the Great Hall after a last reading of the announcements from Headmistress Rhea - no students allowed in the Forbidden Forest, curfew times, avoiding the Whomping Willow, all the regular warnings Yuri expects no student to heed as their time in the castle unspools. He’s fairly certain every rule imposed upon them has been broken at least five times by each house.

They arrive at the entrance of Slytherin’s common room, descending so far down into the dungeons that the students’ breaths turn white with fog without feeling any cold at all, a charm of Hogwarts being a school of magic made of magic. Claude steps in front of a bare expanse of stone wall, clicks his tongue and does an unpleasant trill that has some first years clamping their hands over their ears at the nails-on-chalkboard sound, the others looking curiously as the wall ripples like water and sinks into the ground.

“The password for you first years is ‘Cobbleworms,’ but you’re expected to speak mermish by your third year,” Claude says, and leads them further down the dark passage.

The Slytherin common room has the look of an underwater shipwreck, shadows looming past the ghoulish green glowing lanterns and the eerie crackling of the fire. The room has a greenish tinge that has an almost haunting quality to the glow emanating from the windows.

“Our emblem, as I’m sure you can tell, is the serpent.” Claude waves a hand at the painting hanging above the fireplace, a snake with slitted eyes that glow silver in the light. “Our house colours are emerald green and silver, and our common room is deep into the lake. We have plenty of creatures that swim by - Lysithea, if you’ll kindly demonstrate.”

“...You did ask nicely,” Lysithea mumbles lowly under her breath, and steps forward, unlocking the hatch on one of the windows and opening it. The water, instead of flowing inward, stays where it is under a charm, and Lysithea sticks her hand into the water, waiting before the curious eyes of the first years.

It doesn’t take long for a webbed hand to rise out of the shadows and clamp onto her wrist. The mermaid who emerges has razor-sharp teeth bared into a widening smile that sends some of the first years back with a small cry, scales flashing daisy yellow.

_“What do you have here?”_ she hisses. _“It’s been so long, Lysithea. And you’re brought some new friends.”_

To the first years, Lysithea tells them, “This is Maria. She’s the mermaid who visits the most often, so if you need help and you can’t find any prefects, try talking to her. The merpeople can help you with learning mermish.”

“The merpeople are relatively harmless. As is Sally, the giant squid you might catch outside,” Claude says. “But don’t ask them for love advice, because whatever they say is no good in that department.”

Maria rolls her eyes. _“Ruin my fun, fine. I won’t be here if you keep insulting me.”_

With an inhuman series of clicks and trills, Lysithea says, _“Thank you as always.”_ Maria waves her off and releases her hand.

With the window latched closed, Claude gets to settling the first years into their dorm rooms and handing out their Slytherin ties. Before Yuri can go to his own dorm to unpack his trunk, his arm is almost yanked out of his socket as he’s pulled into a corner of the common room away from the business, behind a couch.

Yuri narrows his eyes, wary of the sweet smile plastered on her face, fake and plasticky. “Did you need something, Hilda?”

“Oh, it’s nothing important,” Hilda says. The only thing missing is her casually twirling his hair around a finger. Yuri lets her go through the dramatics of hand-waving and sighing before she leans forward, gaze serious, smile stuck on her face. “I was doing some sneaking around, figuring out our class schedules...and I’m gonna need a favour.”

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Yuri barely registers his bed curtains shifting open before something soft hits him in the face. He pushes the pillow off his face and turns over in bed, dimly registering Claude’s voice over the noise of rustling from the other side of the dorm: “Rise and shine, can’t be late for class.”

In the dim lighting, Yuri barely has to squint to take in Claude’s half-dressed state, robes thrown on haphazardly, Head Boy badge stuck in a nest of curls on his head.

“I don’t care. And you’re one to talk,” Yuri adds, “with you almost always missing breakfast.”

“C’mon seventh year, it’s time to be an example for the students!” Claude succeeds in dragging half of Yuri’s body off the bed, but that’s as far as he gets.

“ _You_ be the example, Head Boy. I’m going to sleep.”

“You know how lonely little old me gets! Besides, if you can’t wake up this early how are you gonna wake up for Quidditch practice?”

“You’ll drag me out of here I’m sure, captain.”

“That’s _co-captain_ for you.” Claude throws Yuri’s clothes onto his body, hanging off the edge of the bed. Yuri lifts his head to see Cyril shooting them a dark look, already fully dressed and waiting for them.

“Can you guys hurry it up?”

“Relax,” Claude laughs. “I know you’re excited to see Lysithea but you gotta slow it down for resident lazy bum over here.”

“I am not lazy,” Yuri says with a sleepladen voice, watching Cyril turn various shades of red at Claude’s comment.

“Whatever you say, mockingbird.”

“Where’s Solomon?”

“He already left,” Cyril responds. “I think he hates mornings more than us, but he always wakes up early just to hog the bathroom and leave.”

“Now if only you could follow his example, mockingbird.”

Irritated, Yuri throws Claude’s pillow back at his face. “Give me ten minutes.”

It takes that long for them to leave for the Great Hall. They pass by an uncharacteristically subdued Lorenz being comforted by Ferdinand on the way, the former looking worse than usual from the bags under his eyes and his regular terrible haircut that Yuri thinks he _really_ needs to change, muttering, “It was a horrifying nightmare, Ferdinand...they cancelled drama club this year because of the Triwizard Tournament.”

“Don’t be daft,” Ferdinand says, steering Lorenz toward the Gryffindor table. “They won’t cancel it again after having the Tournament run its course in our fifth year.”

It’s late enough that most of the tables are buzzing with students with all the dread and excitement that comes with the first day, but there’s still space enough for them to sit at the table, Lysithea glaring at them but scooching over as Leonie glimmers up at their approach.

“Good morning!” Leonie says. “Did you all sleep well?”

“I think so,” Claude says. “No nightmares, at least.”

“Are you gonna put on your tie properly?” Lysithea says with an arched brow, tone acidic and expected of her. Yuri passively watches as behind her, Sothis wheels into the Hufflepuff table on a scooter, still clad in pyjamas, and grabs some toast.

“Why, are you offering to do it for me? Do you know how to tie a tie? Is little Lysithea all grown up now and knows how to tie a tie?”

Without looking in Claude’s direction, Lysithea flicks her wand. Judging by the choking noise, it seems she made it a bit snug against his throat, but Claude sits at the table without complaint.

Professor Shamir, head of Slytherin, hands them their schedules over breakfast. As Yuri goes over his own schedule, he hears a student mutter, “Oh no, I have Transfiguration with Hanneman this year...”

“Looks like we’ve still got Alchemy together,” Claude tells Yuri, lining up with schedule with the others at the table.

“Oh, joy,” Yuri says, thinking of having a class with all four houses again. Sharing any class with the Gryffindors was enough in his last five years, but after sixth year they started classes including all four classes, and it was shit.

“Apparition’s on Monday afternoons,” Leonie says after a mouthful of bacon. “Think it’ll be as bad as last year?”

“What we had _of it_ last year,” Cyril mutters sullenly, since Apparition had been cancelled halfway through their sixth year.

Claude winces. “It wasn’t _that_ bad. Only one student got splinched.”

“And she only lost, like, a toe. What do you need a toe for?”

Constance’s fan snaps up to flutter over her face, eyes closed in displeasure. “Must we really discuss toes in the midst of breakfasting?”

“Okay, so no foot fetish,” Claude says.

Yuri sees a group of nearby fifth years give them a wide-eyed look and suppresses a sigh. Barely into the first day of classes and they’re already spooked some students.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


In the afternoon, Hilda waltzes into Alchemy class and takes a seat beside Lysithea. She smiles brightly when Lysithea glances at her and sets about organizing her notes. Professor Catherine does rolecall, eyes narrowing when she calls Yuri’s name to receive no reply. Hilda dutifully takes out her textbook and takes notes as Catherine begins the lesson, the chalk floating in the air and writing notes on the chalkboard without prompting.

A small disruption in the back of the class interrupts them early on. The professor cranes her neck to the small cluster of Gryffindors. “Something wrong there?”

Edelgard is the first to speak up, glancing cautiously behind her. “It’s Sylvain, ma’am. He...has a Howler.”

Catherine frowns. “Go deal with it outside, then. I won’t have my class interrupted.”

“Better burn it before it bursts, Sylvain,” Claude says airily as Sylvain stands abruptly, chair screeching, holding the envelope in his hands like a hot potato.

“Yeah, yeah, no worries, I got thisー” However it seems he does not, ‘got this,’ because as soon as he leaves the class there’s a cacophony of noise, a familiar beat that anyone who’s been on the internet in the 21st century instantly recognizes.

_We’re no strangers to lo-oove..._

“Rickrolled on the first day of class,” Lysithea snorts.

Sylvain’s return to class is punctuated by the silence that follows the letter’s interrupted song, no doubt with the letter being burnt, as he sheepishly waves and jogs to his desk where his classmates snicker and jostle him.

The end of the class brings a soothing relief to Hilda, who rises from her seat and packs her things. She waits for Lysithea, who leads them out of the classroom.

Once they’ve left, now in an empty hallway and making their way further down, Hilda says, “I’ve got Defence Against the Dark Arts now.”

Lysithea rolls her eyes. “Whatever, Yuri.”

A pause. “You noticed?” With a grin, Yuri watches Lysithea suppressa shudder as Hilda’s skin seems to peel back, a shiver of change occurring throughout his body as he stands taller, clothes loose and tight in a few awkward places as he stands in Hilda’s robes. He pulls out the pigtails in his hair and shakes it out back to his shorter, ragged purple cut. Metamorphmagi aren’t common, so Yuri uses his powers however he wants in Hogwarts under the careful eye of the professors, exchanging in favours or treats with any students who needs him. “She wanted a favour for something.”

“I’d imagine,” Lysithea says. “It _is_ September second.”

“It is,” Yuri agrees, though they’re not necessarily speaking of the date in question, but what today means for a certain Hufflepuff. “See you at dinner, friend.” If he makes good time, he’ll arrive to class in time to pick his own seat near the back.

...Though, there’s not much chance of that happening when he needs to change out of Hilda’s spare robes, is there?

Under normal circumstances, Lysithea would scold Yuri for this and march him to Professor Catherine herself to seek his punishment as her duty as Head Girl. but these are not the normal circumstances of skipping class for the fun of it, even if it is Hilda, so Lysithea hums noncommittally, and as they split up to go to their separate classes, lets Yuri go.

Unfortunately, Yuri’s going to be late for class, and he resigns himself to it as he takes his time returning to the Slytherin dorms.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


**NOTICE BOARD: Lost Belongings**

Has anyone lost any unused lipstick? - Byleth

\- That would be mine. Thanks Byleth! I’ll meet you outside the Great Hall to pick it up. - Sylvain

> Already losing stuff when the first day of school isn’t even over? - Felix
> 
> Why am I not surprised? - Ingrid

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Yuri’s seen a few students passing by already for breakfast when Hilda stumbles into the Slytherin common room looking worse for wear but with a small, pleased smile on her face as she brushes a hand through her hair, not in its usual pigtails but a lazy ponytail. Her “Hey” to Yuri is an exhausted one, but relief seeps through the edges, smooths out the ends.

“I didn’t get caught,” Yuri says without preamble. “You owe me for this.”

“Of course I do. Thanks for that. My brother’s been getting on my case lately about actually going to class, since it’s my seventh year and all. It’s _tiring_.”

“I’m sure it is,” Yuri says. He points to the small stack of papers on the table. “Your notes from all your classes. If you expected me to do your homework, you should have paid me.”

Hilda waves her hand and collapses on the loveseat across from Yuri, a yawn muffling her next words. “Whatever. I’ll deal with it.”

Yuri highly doubts that - more likely she’ll beg Lysithea for help until she gives in - but it’s not any of his business. He watches the shape of the giant squid muddle through the lake, the shadow of its wispy tentacles passing the windows.

Claude looks surprised to find Yuri out in the common room as him and Cyril are leaving for the Great Hall. “I thought you couldn’t stand mornings.”

“You know me,” Yuri says breezily, standing and rolling back his shoulders, assured even as fatigue bogs down his body. “Up to no good.”

Claude makes the connections quickly, looking to the stack of notes to Hilda, curled up on the chair, and chuckles. “You look like you’ve been up all night.”

“Aaaand then some,” Hilda finishes as she stretches and stands. She waves her wand, the stack of papers floating away to her dorm room. “Mind braiding my hair? There’s no way I’m wearing pigtails today.”

“Alright, sure. Let’s go have breakfast.”

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Tuesday and Thursday mornings might become the only time Yuri can learn to tolerate morning classes, because it’s one of the few times he has classes with Ashe, according to the timestables Ashe sent him. This Thursday he stares discreetly at the back of Ashe’s head as professor Binns drones on, luring most of the class to sleep if they aren’t already. Ashe turns surreptitiously to hold his gaze, passing so quick Yuri’s almost not sure it happens. He fans away the heat when he sees his phone light up at the edge of his desk.

  
  
  


**Ashe:** are you going to keep staring?

**Yuri:** yes, why? feeling shy?

  
  
  


Ashe’s ears turn a distinctive red. Yuri follows the curve of his ear to his neck, as red as his ears, and stifles a chuckle.

  
  
  


**Ashe:** do you know when the Slytherins have the field?

**Yuri:** i knew it, you were only dating me so you could find out slytherins quidditch strategies

**Ashe:** it’s not like that! I was just curious

**Yuri:** quidditch season hasnt even started yet but youre already eager to get your ass dragged across the field, huh

**Ashe:** we’ve been training really hard, and with the team we have this year, I think it’ll be an entertaining match. we won’t lose to you!

**Yuri:** whatever you say, sparrow

**Yuri:** ill be looking forward to that rematch

  
  
  


The rest of the class passes in a warm haze, with Yuri’s mind on the upcoming and final Quidditch season in Hogwarts and the tryouts that are soon to come. It’s a good thing he’s distracted, he thinks, watching Cyril stubbornly shake Hilda awake, because if he were listening to Binns’ poor attempt at a lecture he may need to go to the front and murder the man for a second time himself. It’s a good thing there’s at least one youtube channel out there cleverly disguised as a DnD campaign that manages to explain wizarding history better than their professor ever will, or Yuri and the rest of his class surely would have failed this course already.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


With two Quidditch matches under his belt, Yuri figured he was doing fairly well as Slytherin’s latest second year Seeker. His upperclassmen have been patiently showing him the ropes, and though he still isn’t used to loops and dives, he can stomach the general flying as is. It’s a little bit of escapism once you get used to it, flying. It would belong in this little bubble, but for Yuri that bubble would always pop with Quidditch involved, and Yuri would remember his deal with Rowe, all expectations and promises, and grit his teeth in the face of it, ready to spit his frustrations.

Still, he doesn’t mind flying. It must have something to do with how he perceives it, that kind of freedom; the bitter wind catching in your teeth, the dryness of your hands tightening on the broomstick as you soared above everything and everyone.

Their next match is against Hufflepuff. Their captain had drilled them on possible strategies Hufflepuff might use, and told Yuri to focus on the Snitch as always and as he planned.

This plan goes awry when his gaze snagged onto the Hufflepuff Seeker in the middle of the match.

Ashe Ubert is not someone people pay attention to. He’s a small, unassuming boy who Yuri’s never looked twice at if he happened to look his way in class. His is not made of tempered steel like Yuri, no whiplash remarks or cutting words, with a presence so slight people barely feel him enter or leave a room.

It took five minutes for Yuri to realize that this meant Trouble-with-a-capital-T.

(And it would’ve taken him longer if Ashe had stayed hovering in the air, outside of the action of the match, same as Yuri.)

The gasp of the crowd is what alerted him to Ashe’s sudden movement as he spotted the Hufflepuff Seeker chasing a golden speck in the distance. His heart rioted in alarm; he hadn’t even noticed the Snitch, nor did he notice Ashe taking flight. Usually people would make noise, or their movement from the corner of his eye should get his attention, but Ashe had vanished so easily from Yuri’s mind; he hadn’t registered as a threat.

Yuri caught up to him, but a stray Bludger intercepted the two Seekers’ path, and they’re forced to a stop. When he looked around, the Snitch was gone, so he settled for carefully watching the Hufflepuff Seeker’s movements.

Ashe has mint green eyes, the colour of copper completely corroded, flinty and flight. The smile he sent Yuri’s way is pleasant - so pleasant that Yuri could merely assume it was a polite smile shared between fellow classmates across the room, not one exchanged between rivals on opposite teams.

(Slytherins are known for coming off as frightening, but Hufflepuffs are a different kind of upsetting.)

“Do you know who’s leading in points?” Ashe asked. “I’ve been too distracted to notice.”

Too distracted looking for the Snitch, probably. Maybe he’s trying to distract Yuri. Yuri turned away, searching for gold among the flash of yellow and green of the Hufflepuff and Slytherin players, and smiled his own bland, polite smile.

“I’m just as busy as you, so I wouldn’t know.”

Ashe hummed like he didn’t care about Yuri’s response, knuckles white on his broom.

“You fly good for a second year,” Yuri said.

Ashe laughed abashedly. “Thank you! I still have a ways to go before I can catch up with everyone else, though.”

Yuri silently agreed for the both of them. Talent and hard work can only get you so far; let time run its course for you to accumulate the experience needed to be truly successful.

He caught a glint in the clear blue sky, and didn’t hesitate to pull his broom up in chase. He felt more than heard Ashe following behind, coming up beside him to answer the silent challenge. He has good instincts, with the instinct of knowing when to turn and how to adjust his broom, but it reminded Yuri of a fledgling bird, still learning how to take flight as his hands slipped on his broom and forced him to recalibrate. He’ll be a sparrow someday, though.

The Snitch forced them into a deep headlong dive, the ground speeding towards them as they fell, Yuri ignoring the sense of doom and alarm he felt from the rush to hold a desperate arm out. Ashe pulled up and away; Yuri leaned forward, snatched the Snitch, and hastily pulled his broom up from its inevitable fall and what could’ve been an untimely death. His feet still collide with the grass, and the tail of his broomstick dragged along the ground for a moment, but he’s in the air in the next breath, hiding his shaking behind a smile as Claude soared down to meet him with a lopsided smile.

“How reckless of you, mockingbird.”

“Still won, didn’t we?” Yuri said, trembling with adrenaline, the Snitch trying to escape from his clutch. He made out the sound of the commentator announcing the final points of the match - 210-50 - and the thunderous screaming of the stands, his teammates gathering around to congratulate him with their proud smiles and congratulatory slaps to the back and head noogies.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


My sweet mockingbird,

School sounds like it will be difficult this year! I hope you manage to keep up with your studies. NEWTs will be this year, as I’m sure all your professors have been reminding you repeatedly time and time again this year.

How is Quidditch? Do tell me when and how your tryouts are; I want to hear all about your newest recruits. You’re co-captain with Claude this year, yes? I trust you both to guide them well.

And in the business of our everyday life, it is easy to ignore the fatigue that grinds down on us, and so I must remind you: please take care of yourself.

The neighbours have been kind as of late, but they have always been kind, as I’m sure you can remember. Just the other day I went down to Citra’s for a cup of tea and talked while watching over his children. He’s more polite than he comes across in first meetings; very stoic, but kind.

It isn’t autumn yet, but I’m beginning to miss the sun, and find myself lingering out the balcony a few minutes more than needed to soak in the wind and warmth. Life just isn’t the same without some relaxation in between the activity. Sometimes I think I’ll hear a mockingbird singing in the distance.

And finally, Zenith has generously agreed to sharing some of her mint tea. I have some of it stored along with the letter, charmed for safety so it doesn’t fall off in the owl’s travel. Did you say it was for a friend? I hope they enjoy it. And do give the school’s owl some treats when she arrives, she must be tired.

Write back to me whenever possible. I miss you. Do well in school.

  
  
  


With all my heart,

Mama Mockingbird


	2. hogwarts staff has -10 control over the student body population

**NOTICE BOARD: Advice Column**

How are students supposed to get to their classes on time when we only have twenty minutes in between classes to locate our classroom? - Befuddled Hufflepuff first year

\- We used to only have a ten-minute interval before Flayn threw a fit and appealed to Seteth for us. Best of luck. - Sothis

> Hoo, that was harsh. - Sylvain
> 
> Did you really have to write ‘hoo’ to imitate an owl? - Felix
> 
> Hoo, me? - Sylvain
> 
> Careful. I would suggest you stop there before Felix decides to wipe you from the face of this earth. - Edelgard
> 
> Too late. - Felix

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


**Yuri:** how was divination?

**Ashe:** Professor Shamir gave us our own set of tarot cards today! want me to do a reading?

**Yuri:** sure, ill be in the library this afternoon

**Ashe:** sorry, I’ve got something I need to ask Professor Manuela! :( how about lunch tomorrow?

**Yuri:** of course

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The final match of Yuri’s first Quidditch season at Hogwarts left him restless. He distracted himself with useless questions handed to him for homework and pages upon pages of essays to complete for a range of classes, but it’s a different kind of itch that persists. He saw a blur of corroded copper turned mint green in a corner of his mind, amidst the flying banners of house colours and the freezing blue sky, heartbeat thudding in his hands.

That night he snuck outside, broom in hand, only to find someone already at the pitch. It was not who he expected it to be - not Byleth, obsessed with Quidditch on a different level from Yuri, was usually who he finds practicing with Sothis - but it was someone he was pleased to see.

Hufflepuff’s second year Seeker was hidden in between the bleachers, concealed so well in shades of shadow Yuri almost missed him if he didn’t move, shifting forward into the moonlight. He’s wearing sweats similar to Yuri’s, Muggle-made, not the wizarding kind with charmed moving graphics or woven with spells to keep the wearer warm. His smile was open and innocent. He looked like the sort of daydream boy who didn’t pay attention in class because his eyes were attuned to the sky. Then again, at this age, that was most students in Yuri’s class.

(And that’s okay. There is no burden of the world on their shoulders, no expectations of a heavy future yet. There is still time to be children.)

“Hello,” he says, and like Yuri could be anyone else, “You’re Slytherin’s Seeker, aren’t you?”

“And you’re Hufflepuff’s. Ashe, right?”

His eyes flickered in surprise. “You remember me?”

“It’s hard to forget a match.” It helped that Yuri makes it a point to know every player’s name in Hogwarts Quidditch, especially his opponents. _There is power in a name,_ as his mother would say.

“Ah, wellー” He broke off into a reproachful laugh. “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember your name.”

“Yuri,” he said, watching Ashe repeat the name silently, tasting the potential acidity on his tongue, but he only brightened.

“Yuri,” he said out loud, light and breezy. “We have Defence Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration together, don’t we? Those are the only classes I remember sharing with Slytherin this year.”

“You’re right,” Yuri conceded. “But I didn’t really notice you before the match.”

Ashe laughed, taking the statement without offense. “There’s a lot of students in Hogwarts. I wouldn’t expect you to know everyone, least of all me.” He said this all shy and humble, a typical Hufflepuff.

“Yeah.” Yuri leaned back on the barrier between the stands and the pitch. “So, what are you here for? Enjoying the night out?”

“Just some Quidditch practice,” he said, reaching for the broom beside him to pick up almost reverently, delicate with how he handled it. Yuri recognized the make from when he had had to choose his own broom. He also remembered the amount of Galleons it costs, the exact number of zeros, and the fact that it was used in the latest international Quidditch competition by the Chaser in the team representing Russia.

“A Startstreaker IV? That’s unexpected.”

“It is flashy,” Ashe agreed. “This is just for practice. I wanted to get used to using a high-level broom that requires more - finesse, in a way? - to use it. And yours is...a Silverflint?”

Yuri twirled his broom in his hands so the faint silver caught in the light. “Fast, silent, and deadly. Suits my flying style, right?”

“Ahーyes.” Ashe grinned. “Were you hoping to practice a little, too?”

“A little,” Yuri said. “But since we’re both here, why don’t we play a game?”

“What kind of game?”

Yuri leaned further out beyond the barrier to the ground, far below. “Do you know about the competition outside of Quidditch? They’ll enchant other objects the way they do brooms to do tricks on them, the same way Muggles do tricks on skateboards.” He turned his head lazily to meet Ashe’s gaze. “Wanna give it a try, sparrow?”

Ashe wasn’t so quick to take slipping out of the bleachers and standing before him, saying, “We only have our brooms, though.”

“This trick can work on brooms.”

“Can you show me first?”

Yuri’s lips curled up to bare teeth. “Of course.”

He did a quick warmup that doesn’t do much, flying a round in the pitch, shadow chasing alongside him, the night cold burning into his fingers. He took off his shoes and socks for the trick, hovering a few feet in front of Ashe who stood respectfully behind the barrier.

The Cushioning charm placed on brooms allows wizards to successfully use them while still being comfortably seated. The charm on Yuri’s broom was done carefully enough that the space between Yuri’s broom and his hands are barely visible, a slip of air thin as a sheet of paper.

Yuri lifted himself up into a crouch, lined his feet up along the broom and stood slowly, hands aloft like a tightrope walker. He avoided looking at the ground or thinking of the fall even with the weightlessness his stomach had become, focusing on Ashe’s pale face, open-mouthed. Yuri’s mouth slipped into a daredevil smile as he lifted a leg behind him, one foot keeping him balanced on the broom. Ashe almost launched forward in alarm, but Yuri only laughed and dropped back into his first stance, one foot lined in front of the other. The wind blows suddenly fierce and cutting, forcing Yuri back to his crouching position, hands returning to their regular place on the broom as he sat back down.

“Wanna give it a try?” Yuri said. What he did wasn’t anything advanced or extreme, though it still took time to get used to. Time, and practice. “I’ll wait here to catch you if you fall, if you want.”

He dipped further below the barrier, Ashe edging out to look down at him.

Ashe’s voice came out a small but steady, “Okay.”

Yuri adjusted himself to be a bit below Ashe as he flew out on his broom. Yuri could see his knees shake when he brought his legs above the broom; Yuri can’t see his face.

Ashe shook like a newborn fawn as he rose to stand, slower than Yuri, teetering this way and that, a reed in the wind, until he tilted back, back, unable to balance himself, arms pinwheelingー

Yuri caught him in his arms as Ashe’s smaller body crumpled, the swaying dip of his broom as Yuri steadied them with his free hand on his broom, forcing them up, _up,_ back to Ashe’s broom.

Ashe scrambled for his broom with the effort of a man about to drown at sea grasping at a lifeline; the palpable relief on his face made Yuri feel guilty.

“Maybe it would’ve been better to do it closer to the ground.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” Ashe laughed, too breathless to be all truth. “I’ll remember that for next time.”

“So that didn’t scare you away?”

“Was it supposed to?”

Instead of answering, Yuri flicked a glance at the sky, moon partially hidden behind drifting clouds. No, it wasn’t supposed to scare him away at all.

“We should go inside. Wouldn’t want to get caught this late at night, especially with a Slytherin, right?”

“...Right,” Ashe said hesitantly as Yuri fetched his shoes and socks.

They didn’t speak again as they made their way on foot back through the school grounds, darting between long shadows and, when they reached a stretch of grass impossible to hide in, dash through quickly. Ashe moved as silent as Yuri, maybe even quieter; the silence of his footfalls are practiced.

It’s Ashe who broke the silence first, outside Hogwarts walls, enshrouded in darkness: “Why didn’t you use magic?”

“What?”

“To catch me.” Ashe was fiddling with the twigs at the end of the broom, straightening them out. “You could’ve used a Cushioning charm orーsomething. If you’d fallen with me and got injured because of meー”

“I didn’t, though,” Yuri replied, amused that this Hufflepuff boy who he’s barely held one conversation with would care more about Yuri’s wellbeing than his own. “I was raised around Muggles; I’d trust a knife in my hand more than a wand.”

“Oh.”

“Besides,” Yuri added, “we haven’t learned the Cushioning Charm yet.”

“Oh, of course. I forgot.”

They parted once they were inside; Ashe whispered a thank you - what for, Yuri couldn’t say - and slipped away, steps silent as ever. He has the demeanor of someone used to sneaking around.

Yuri turned and headed for the dungeons. Everyone at Hogwarts has secrets - surely Ashe has some of his own.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


A shadow falls over him as Ashe slips into the bench in front of him, smiling, having just from class to lunch.

“How was Defence Against the Dark Arts? And Herbology?” Yuri asks.

Ashe brightens. “My morning was great! We ended up studying a crossbreed between Venomous Tentacula and Devil’s Snare today. It almost ended up poisoning Annette, but we managed to avoid that, thankfully...how was your morning? You only had Arithmancy today, right?”

Yuri hums as he swallows a spoonful of food. He feels much better; his free period allowed him to sleep in, and the house elves in the kitchen spotted him some food when he asked politely, and he can finish the Arithmancy homework Sullivan gave them by the end of lunch if he focuses hard enough, but...

Under the table, Yuri links their ankles together and chuckles when Ashe’s face colours. “Bothered by something?”

“I’mーfine,” Ashe mutters, grabbing a plateful of a dish, clearly not seeing what it is as he dumps several rolls of sushi blindly on his plate. Around them is the usual accompaniment of Hogwarts chatter; Yuri spots most of his friends at the Gryffindor or Hufflepuff table, and sticks out a tongue playfully in response to Hapi’s deadpan face when they spot each other. Claude fingerguns and mimes shooting him, sparks shooting out his fingertips. Jeritza ignores Ashe’s friendly wave and pretends they don’t exist.

“What were you saying about tarot cards, sparrow?”

Ashe’s eyes flash. He leans forward, food forgotten. “Professor Shamir got us our own tarot card sets! There’s not a lot of us in the class so I guess she decided to buy it for us, and the pictures moveー”

A fond feeling fills Yuri as he watches Ashe dig into his messenger bag. Typical that Ashe would still be caught in the wonders of wizarding society, even something as simple as moving pictures on paper.

Yuri shuffles through the deck Ashe gives him, still with a glossy sheen of newness on each card. The Queen of Pentacles looks benevolently at him, neither smiling nor frowning; The Fool jumps off a seaside cliff and vanishes, then reappears on the other side of the card back on the cliff, disgruntled and wet. Yuri points to the person who’s been stabbed by several swords lying facedown in the Ten of Swords and says, “Mood.”

Ashe looks at the card. “Yuri, he’s not breathing.”

“That’s how exam week feels like.”

“Can I do a reading for you?”

“Shouldn’t this be the other way around?” Yuri waves his hand. “Sure, fine. I still don’t believe in any of this, by the way.”

Ashe smiles, taking back his cards. “That’s fine.”

Ashe shuffles the cards efficiently. He organizes them facedown on the table, clearing the space, moving his abandoned plate, Yuri putting his textbook back in his bagーit’s not like he was planning on getting any work done now that Ashe is here.

He picks three cards from the deck, one each to represent his past, present, and future, Ashe says.

His past the The Sun reversed, meaning a temporary roadblock in his life that Yuri has to work through.

His present is the Five of Swords, _the polar opposite of The Sun,_ Ashe says. Yuri’s had a falling out or disagreement with someone that left him with a sense of sadness. The advice the card provides is to pick your battles. The Five of Swords is an invitation to apologize and make amends.

The second meaning of the card may also be failure. It shows that, despite Yuri’s efforts, he’s likely to be beaten by his opponent. The card advises him to accept his defeat and learn from it.

His future is The Magician, a wizened man who could be Merlin, a wand in his outstretched hand pointing at Yuri. The Magician brings the tools, resources, and energy needs to make his dreams come true; everything is at his fingertips. Now is the perfect time for Yuri to take action.

“How was it?” Ashe clears the table of cards, anxiety creeping through his voice. “I haven’t done a reading before. Was it accurate?”

Yuri shrugs. “Not really.” But he’s never put much hope or belief in things like these; there’s a reason he never took Divination. The future is not so easily read for someone like him; it’s something he’ll reach out and mold for himself. And if that’s the future Ashe read for him, then it’s only a coincidence. “Was it fun?”

“Yes.” Ashe relaxes, and Yuri feels his feet shifting as he taps the ground. “I’ve always thought this was interesting...I’ll see if I can do a reading for some of my friends later.”

“Right.” Yuri reluctantly pulls out his homework once more and Ashe continues with his meal. After a moment, Yuri remembers: “I got a letter from my mom recently.”

Ashe perks up, the only person in Hogwarts who knows the entirety of Yuri’s situation with his family...and Rowe. “Really? How is she?”

“Fine, I think. She sent in that mint tea you liked.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to get that for me...thank you. Tell your mom I’m very grateful,” Ashe blusters as Yuri slides a box across the table. Ashe handles the box with the same care he would his broom, gentle as he rummages through his messenger bag to make space for it.

“Hey guys.”

“Dorothea.”

“Yurikins.” She grins, the action dislodging something inside Yuri. Wordlessly, he unhooks his ankles from Ashe’s, who gives no sign of noticing the small pull away, distracted as he is. He feels cold. “What are you up to?”

“Trying to finish this work before period three starts.” Yuri smiles back, tries to force polite and charming on his face, something he knows Dorothea would see through in a minute, because in those masks they are alike. “Did you need something?”

“I wanted to ask Ashe here about the Divination homework we got Monday...” Dorothea takes a seat beside Ashe and pulls out her notes.

Ashe looks up. “Oh, yes? Did you need anything?”

Dorothea spends the rest of lunch with them. Yuri plugs in his earbuds to drown out the buzz of their conversation. His focus remains on his Arithmancy work until the end of lunch, and even though he finishes it, he doesn’t feel any of the satisfaction he should feel upon completion.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


**NOTICE BOARD: Lost Belongings**

Has anyone lost a set of paintbrushes? - Byleth

\- That’ll be mine! You can drop them off in the Ravenclaw tower, sorry. Thank you, Byleth! - Ignatz

  
  
  


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“If Caspar sets something off in Potions again it’ll have been a day too soon,” Hilda grumbles, poking her wand at her laptop. “It’s too early in the year to smell like moldy cheese all week.”

Lysithea frowns, the dimness of the Slytherin common room setting most of her face in shadow. “Is that really still happening in our seventh year?”

“Apparently.” Hilda throws her hands in the air. “The stink wouldn’t leave. Professor Seteth couldn’t even charm it away. We have to move to a different classroom until it’s gone.”

“I gotta say, that’s rough,” Claude says. He has a table all to himself, papers scattered everywhere on it, leaning back on his chair, balancing a pen on his nose. “Y’know, it’s only been the second week of school but we’re already writing essays and planning projects. Wish we could slow down for a bit.”

“At least our classes are interesting,” Lysithea says, known teacher’s pet who sticks her hand into every possible subject Hogwarts offers. “We can’t afford to be lazy this year, considering it’s our last, and we have NEWTs to study for.”

Claude sighs. “Don’t I know it. Read my essay for Muggle Studies for me?”

“You’re already finished?”

“It was pretty straightforward - pick a well-known wizard who blended into Muggle society while using magic and abiding by Ministry laws and regulations.”

“Who did you choose?” Lysithea grabs the laptop that floats over to her side of the common room. Yuri doesn’t know how to tell either of them that Claude could’ve just shared the file. The purebloods may be using Muggle technology, but they still don’t know everything, it seems.

“Walt Disney. Let me guess, you decided to write about Mary Poppins?”

“Willy Wonka, actually.”

Beside Yuri, Constance pauses over her Herbology work. “Forgive me for interrupting, but Willy Wonka wasn’t attempting to blend in, was he?”

“Oh, definitely not,” Claude says cheerfully. “But he’s also talented enough to hide from the Ministry after that film got released. It’s Mary Poppins who knew enough about wizarding laws to skirt it and escape unscathed, despite allegations.”

Talk of all these wizards who appeared in Muggle movies reminds Yuri of an old Christmas classic he’d seen: “Imagine if Kevin McCallister managed to get into Hogwarts. He would have run circles around wizards.”

“Oh, definitely,” Claude says, as Constance tilts her head.

“Kevin McCallister?”

“He’s from that Muggle movie, _Home Alone_ , do you remember? We watched it together one Christmas.”

“Oh, that child. His plans were certainly...elaborate, for an eight-year-old.”

“Lysitheaaaa,” Hilda launches herself onto Lysithea, who doesn’t bother dodging, but lifts Claude’s laptop out of reach. “Help me with this History reading.”

“Were you not listening in class? It was explained.”

Hilda gasps in mock offence. “Listen? In _class?_ In a class _Binns_ is teaching?”

“Were you even in class?” Cyril says flatly.

“Of course not, I would never waste my time in History of Magic when I couldー” At Lysithea’s unimpressed look, she quickly switches gears. “ーbe studying in the library!”

Lysithea sighs. Considering she’s been helping Hilda get through her classes since first year, Yuri’s impressed that’s all she does. “Read pages 110-120 on the troll community, and then I’ll help you.”

“Aw, you’re too kind, Lysithea!” Hilda gives her a short hug and skips back to her seat. Yuri bets it’ll take five minutes until she starts whining again.

The common room empties until Claude and Yuri decide to turn in for the night, leaving a small group of first years whispering by the fire that Claude tells to go to bed soon. Cyril and their last roommate, Solomon, are already asleep, curtains drawn around their beds. Yuri falls asleep quickly with a mind still whirring with his latest lessons.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


On Monday afternoons the Great Hall’s long benches and tables are magicked away for Apparition, the class shared between sixth and seventh years. A good portion of seventh years aren’t in the class, having already taken the official test in the Ministry and passed. The students all stand a few feet away from each other. Yuri shields his eyes from the outpour of sun through long, thin windows and focuses on the brown tile floor a few feet away he should be apparating to. Beside him, Sothis disapparates with a whipcrack and touches down on said space.

“Wrong tile,” she grumbles, and stalks back to her starting point.

There’s several Ministry officials there to watch over them. Hilda’s hiding from the watchful gaze of her brother, who happens to be there on Ministry business as well. Yuri watches the officials carefully; the darkest days of the Ministry as he knows it may be over, but he still doesn’t trust them, not after seeing the aftereffects walking the Hogwarts halls, people affected by the corruption within.

A yelp from above catches his attention; Ingrid tumbles from out of the air and lands safely in Raphael’s arms. The students around them laugh and titter until one of the professors barks at them to focus. Yuri sees Ashe turn away from the chaos, shoulders shaking quietly with laughter; it takes a different kind of strength to turn away from the sight.

He eyes the tile he’s supposed to land on. With a deep breath, he clears his head, and disapparates.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Yuri blinks the sleep out of his eyes and stifles a yawn as he knocks on the Slytherin girl’s dorm room. Dorothea had fetched him and left him there with one last worried glance at the door.

He knocks again when he gets no response. “Bernadetta, dove, you have class.”

Nothing. He hears rustling on the other side and sighs. “What’s wrong?”

The slow creak of the door opening is permission enough; he steps inside. The shape of a body is burrowed under the blanket of one of the beds. He shuts the door carefully and quietly takes a seat at the foot of the bed, his weight causing him to dip into it. Bernadetta shifts, peeking at him through the covers.

“If we’re early, we can still make breakfast,” Yuri says. “If you get out of bed anytime soon, that is. What’s got you so worried that even Dorothea couldn’t get you out?”

The silence that falls is tentative, formed between Yuri’s steady breathing and Bernadetta slowly emerging from her cocoon, still wrapped in her blanket, a hesitant expression on her face, of a person so far inside her head Yuri can’t see the light in them. She won’t look Yuri in the eyes.

“I don’t know if I’m good enough.”

“For what?”

Bernadetta’s voice is a whisper, the kind of thoughts one has in the dead of night when the silence can’t stop the negativity from sinking needlepoints into skin to the core: “This...thing. Writing. Everyone always has at least one thing that they’re good at: Dorothea can sing, you can play Quidditch, Edelgard is...perfect. I’mーsupposed to be good at writing. That’s my thing. That’s what my friends know me for, that’s what _you_ know me for but...I don’t even know if I’m any good at it. What if everyone’s just lying to me so they don’t hurt my feelings? What if I’m not good at anything, and everyone’s been lying to me, and no one actually likes me, they all hate me, you allー”

“Bernadetta.” Yuri wraps a hand around her wrist, her hands caught in the tangle of her own hair in worry. He catches the spiral in her mind, the dark panic and shakiness in her voice, and his heart hurts. “We would never lie to you.”

She blinks, looks right through him. “Would you really?”

Shit, he lies to _everyone_. Yuri’s always wearing a mask; right now, he can’t have that.

“We’re your _friends_.” Yuri tugs her hand down, encases her ice-cold hand in his own. “If we didn’t like something in your writing, we would tell you. You’re a capable writer. And maybe your writing needs work, but doesn’t everyone? That’s what friends are for: to help you improve yourself. And we don’t ‘know you’ for writing. We know you because you’re our friend, who happens to write. We’re not leaving you.”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” Yuri says, even if there’s no guarantee of that. Circumstances change, people change, promises can’t be held. But Yuri would like to keep this promise for Bernadetta, something to help reassure her at night, to help her stand on her own two feet.

Bernadetta wipes away her tears. When she looks at Yuri, her eyes are still watering, but her face is set. “Sorry,” she mutters. “I wasーI didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“It’s what friends are for,” Yuri says simply, and squeezes her hand in a wordless communication of _we’re here for you._ Bernadetta sniffles, hides her face behind her sleeve, and squeezes back.

Yuri waits for her to change outside in the common room, and then they’re rushing off to breakfast. The Great Hall is fairly empty with only stragglers left behind. Yuri snags the nearest empty bend at the Hufflepuff table and grabs a muffin, Bernadetta clattering down beside him as he shushes any apologies she’s about to make.

After a short round of breakfast, Yuri doubles back before he leaves Bernadetta behind. “I’ll see you in Alchemy and Dark Arts in the afternoon. Don’t forget, club meetings start soon.”

“Mmh,” Bernadetta mumbles around her food. Swallows. Her eyes are still rimmed red. “You’ll be helping with Quidditch tryouts this year?”

Yuri smiles. “I’m co-captain with Claude. There’s no way I’m missing it.”

“Good luck.”

“Tell that to the students trying out.” He squeezes her shoulder reassuringly one last time to see her smile peek through, one cheek bulging with food, and can’t hold himself back from giving her a short peck on the cheek. “I’ll see you at lunch.”

“Okay.”

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Yuri makes out the sliver of quicksilver moonlight slanting through the window and leans on the ledge. Sitting on a desk diagonally from him, Anna throws a set of dice in the air, the ones set to explode if they land on 1. Seeing Yuri fold his arms across his chest, she performs a quick warming charm and silently shrugs off his thanks with a smile.

The door to the classroom creeps open. Yuri glances at the Marauder’s Map, relaxes at the familiar name he sees among the two unknown, and stuffs it into his robes before they enter.

Flayn is the first to appear with a wide grin, closely followed by two younger students Yuri guesses to be first years, a Ravenclaw and Gryffindor respectively, the later with a ceasing grip on the sleeve of the former. How cute.

Flayn casts a Muffliato charm, and Anna spreads her hands in a wide welcoming gesture to the newcomers. “Welcome! We’ve got caprisuns, glitter gel pens, fruit by the foot, and more! What’ll you be buying today?”

The Ravenclaw frowns. “I thought you would have more wizarding goods.”

Yuri snorts. “Of course not; Flayn and Linhardt are in charge of that side of the market. We’re Muggle goods only. We can help you stock up on school supplies, but if you’re looking to order a new laptop, you’re better off ordering online.”

The Gryffindor looks disgruntled at this news, but the two students nod agreeably. The Ravenclaw purchases a set of glitter gel pens, paintbrushes, and an origami instruction book; the Gryffindor buys a Clue boardgame.

“What are you doing?” the Gryffindor asks when Yuri holds up their coins above their head and snaps on a pair of glasses, looking for an odd shimmer on them.

“Checking to see if you’re using fake Sickles,” Yuri answers. “It’s easy to replicate coins with a spell or two.”

The Ravenclaw bristles. “We wouldn’t do that! Besides, we’re only first years. We don’t know that spell yet.”

Flayn placates them with a hand on their shoulder. “Still, it’s good to make sure, don’t you think? That way, we know you’re trustworthy if you want to purchase from us again.”

The Sickles are real; Yuri slips the glasses back into his robes and gives a portion of the money to Anna. “Looks like you’re all clear. You’ll be okay leading them back, Flayn?”

“Of course! It’s a good thing we finished so soon, I have a friend who’s starting their stream on searching for the thunderbird tonight, I was hoping I could get there on time...back under the cloak now, children!” Flayn ushers the first years under her invisibility cloak. The only sign of her departure is the door clicking open, and then they’re gone.

Yuri fishes out the Marauder’s Map as Anna charms the pack of knickknacks they brought to a small enough size to stuff into her pocket. Seteth’s patrolling the sixth floor; Yuri waits for him to descend, and exits the room, Anna on his tail.

They make it back to the empty Slytherin common room without any disturbances. Before she leaves, Anna gives one last look at the Map as Yuri taps his wand and murmurs, the ink vanishing from the parchment.

“Soo, are you ever gonna tell me where you got that, or are you just gonna leave your partner in crime in the dark?”

“It’s not my secret to tell.” Yuri smiles.

Anna sighs and shrugs. “I mean, it’s helped a lot with business last year, and it’s sure to help now. I guess I can’t complain. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Good night.”

Claude sits up from his bed when Yuri enters the dorm. He looks like he was just about to go to bed; he must have been waiting for Yuri. “How was it?”

“Fine as always.” Yuri hands him the Marauder’s Map. “This is what you were waiting for, wasn’t it? You can go to sleep knowing it’s safe now.”

“Obviously I stayed awake to make sure you got back safe as well.”

Yuri sends him a bored look. “Liar. You’d be in the common room if that were the case.”

Claude laughs quietly. In his bed on the far right, Cyril shuffles and murmurs in his sleep. “You got me. But hey, I trusted you guys to not get caught. You guys have been running the Hogwarts black market since you were second years, plus you have the Map with you now; it would be impossible for you guys to get caught, unless something interfered.”

“You’re right.” Anna and Yuri are too good at what they do to get caught at this point; still, they have to be careful. “I’ll leave you to sleep now, friend. Good night.”

“‘Night.” When Claude’s bed curtains swish close, Yuri allows himself to stare a moment longer at the dark green drapes before dressing for bed.

The Marauder’s Map is one of a kind, composed of their own exploration of Hogwarts culminating six years of their lives there as students. It was a decision easily made in their second year, when Claude had burst into the Slytherin common room with news that a few Gryffindors had come too close to the Whomping Willow during full moon, that Hilda had had to distract them and they all ended up with detention for getting caught outside curfew. A way to watch over Marianne without getting close, Claude had suggested. It just so happens that the solution they came up with had other uses.

Yuri’s lulled to sleep with the knowledge that the first full moon had passed peacefully enough, and that the next one won’t be until October first.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The first time Bernadetta and Yuri met wasn't at school, but before that, on the cusp of Hogwarts. Rowe took Yuri along to a visit to a pureblood wizard’s estate neighbouring their own, told him explicitly to get along with their family’s daughter. And Yuri wasn’t particularly looking to gain the man’s favour more than he already had, but he wasn’t about to cause trouble when it’s pointless.

The problem with getting along with the Varley family’s daughter was that she actually had to be...present. Physically. Which she was not.

Mrs. Varley apologized profusely about it to Rowe while Yuri was led out to the gardens by one of the house elves. It’s a normal garden, filled with normal Muggle flowers, not the ones that bite or try to trap people, which was a pleasant surprise compared to Rowe’s collection of monster-plants.

A girl was in the gazebo. She hadn’t noticed Yuri yet. She was only wearing what looks like pyjamas, the wizarding kind with fabric that looks comfortable to touch and little patterns that wiggle and move along the pants. This could only be Bernadetta Varley; what other girl would be in the Verley estate?

She didn’t notice Yuri creeping forward, distracted as she was by the book in her lap, until his shadow fell over her. Her shriek broke his eardrums; the plant behind him exploded. Yuri glanced at the carnage behind him for a long time, distantly registering that the mess on the ground now could’ve been his body, and back at the girl, who was standing shakily now, book held between them like a weapon.

“Who areーwho are you?!”

Yuri tilted his head. “Did you not know that there would be wizards visiting your estate today?”

She blinked. A strand of hair’s fallen over her face in the ensuing chaos as realization dawned on her face. “Oh. You must be with Rowe. Oh, I’m so sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean toー”

“Calm down.” Amused, Yuri helped her up. “You could’ve blown me up just then.”

Her face somehow paled further. “I’mーI’m sorryー”

“I was joking.” Yuri straightened out her clothes and looked her in the eye; she looked distantly away. “You must be Bernadetta Varley.”

“...I am. But I don’t know your, uhー”

“It’s fine,” he said. “We’ve never met before. I’m Yuri Leclerc.”

Bernadetta peeked up at him cautiously. “I didn’t know the Rowe family had any children.”

“He doesn’t. He took me in.”

“Oh. You’re adopted?”

“Not...really.” At the confusion on her face, Yuri said, “Think of it as an investment of sorts.”

“Oh.” After a long moment of silence, Bernadetta glanced down, apparently unable to keep the conversation going, or perhaps unwilling. Yuri took this in.

“Wanna show me around?”

“Huh?”

“The Varley estate. There must be something interesting to do here. You don’t have to, obviously, but we might as well have some fun while I’m here, right?”

“Fun?”

Yuri copied her tilted head with a smile. “What do you do for fun around here?”

Bernadetta’s a reluctant, sheltered child. From Yuri’s point of view, she certainly seemed spoiled, having free reign of the mansion save for a few office rooms for work and the chambers, but the greenhouse is massive, the house elves are kind to them and seemed fond of her, and the family library seemed to be where she usually nested, second to her bedroom.

They spent the afternoon there, quietly reading and talking. Yuri pulled out book after magical book off the shelf, curious as this was only the second wizard house he’s ever been in, and Bernadetta had read enough of every book to provide a brief synopsis. They learned that they’re both going to Hogwarts that year, and Yuri decided to make a promise to Bernadetta to remain in contact throughout the school year.

She looked relieved at his words. “I don’t thーI don’t like being in new places.”

Yuri, stretched out on the carpet of the library, swung his legs in the air. “I understand,” he said. “We’ll navigate Hogwarts together, yeah?”

“Butーwe might not have the same classes, or even be in the same houseー”

“Doesn’t matter,” Yuri said. “Friendships between the houses are becoming more common nowadays, that’s what you said, right? We’ll always be friends, Bernadetta.”

She didn’t respond verbally to this, but Yuri saw her mouth the word _friend_ like it was the first time she’d come upon the concept, the smallest glimmer of a smile peeking from the sides of her mouth, and Yuri smiled back at her. Yes. For all the kindness she’d shown Yuri, who was still new to the wizarding world, he’ll stay by her side in Hogwarts. All seven years of it.

(In the end, it turned out Bernadetta didn’t have to worry at all, as they’re both placed in Slytherin. That night in the empty common room they whisper their worries to each other, seek comfort in knowing that they are stuck together, and only bid each other goodnight when an exasperated Slytherin prefect finds them.)

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


They’re supposed to be doing a reading of Dzou Yen, one of the alchemists and fathers of Chinese scientific thought, which is exactly why the class has devolved into chaos. Catherine’s gone, having chased Peeves out of the class and expecting them to work quietly. Yuri doesn’t know why she would think that would happen with students from all four houses combined into one class, and it shows; half the students have left after she disappeared, gone to their common rooms or the Great Hall. Catherine is probably off somewhere herself; there’s no way she would take this long chasing Peeves or returning to her class. Probably visiting the Divination room, Yuri muses.

“Hey, Dimitri,” Claude leans forward to tap the Gryffindor on the shoulder, one of the few students attempting to work diligently in an environment where the students left in the empty classroom are on the other side of the room playing a textbook-sized version of Jenga. “When do your tryouts start?”

Dimitri sends them a dimpled smile. “Today, actually.”

Edelgard pauses in her work to turn to Dimitri. “You shouldn’t have told them that.”

“Nevermind that, thanks for the info,” Claude says with a wink. “We’ll be sure to drop by.”

Dimitri, bless him, only manages a look of confusion. “Other houses aren’t allowed to watch other house tryouts.”

“Easy work around for a Slytherin,” Yuri says flippantly. “Even easier work for one who’s a Metamorphmagus, hm? Might wanna keep an eye on who’ll be in the stands today.”

Edelgard shoots them a suspicious look. Dimitri looks mollified, and returns to his work while Claude sends Yuri a grin and discreet thumbs up. They’re not planning on crashing the Gryffindor tryouts, obviously, but it’s good to keep rivals on their toes.

They have lunch with the Slytherins at their table so Claude can ask the team and their friends, “What do you think about Quidditch this year?”

Solomon, one of their beaters, shrugs without looking up from their food. “Same as always.”

Lysithea huffs. “Sometimes I question why I’m friends with you all. You’re all jocks with only Quidditch on the brain.”

“Eh, I don’t think we’re so different,” Claude says. “After all, you’re the one who managed to get a time-turner in our third year just to take all our classes.” He shakes his head ruefully. “Still don’t know how you got permission for that.”

Lysithea visibly bristles. “It was _educational._ ”

“And stressful,” Dorothea adds. “Honestly, it was stressful just watching you.”

Lysithea sighs, but she looks back with a small sort of understanding. Still glum that she had to drop some classes, probably, even though it was in their third year.

“You’re still taking a lot of classes now, actually,” Hilda says. “What is it? Nine?”

“Cyril’s taking twelve,” Lysithea brings up.

Cyril’s quick to defend himself. “That’s because I don’t know what I wanna do after Hogwarts.”

Yuri says, “Dorothea, you’re taking nine classes; that’s the same number as Lysithea.”

“Yes, but mine are less stressful than the classes Lysithea’s taking. Look, she’s taking Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, _and_ Alchemy.”

“Fair point.”

“Twelve classes, Cyril? That might be overdoing it a bit,” Claude says.

Lysithea frowns. “I could’ve taken that many classes, too.”

“Yes, yes, we know, Ms. I’ve-had-the-highest-marks-in-our-grade-since-first-year. We been knew.”

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


**NOTICE BOARD: Quidditch Tryouts**

Gryffindor: Monday evening

Hufflepuff: Tuesday evening

Ravenclaw: Wednesday evening

Slytherin: Thursday evening

Remember, only second years and above can participate in tryouts for their respective House! If you’re interested in the commentator position, feel free to contact me. I wish you all the best with your tryouts! - Flayn, Ravenclaw seventh year, Quidditch commentator

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


**Ashe:** are you free?

**Yuri:** sure

**Ashe:** meet me in classroom 6b? :)

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


He borrows the Marauder’s Map again from Claude, who’s used to Yuri’s nightly excursions enough to not pester him overly about it, though he does spare him a thoughtful glance that he covers with a wink and a wave as Yuri leaves. Yuri lets him wonder; he’s not planning on answering his questions anytime soon.

It’s easy to slip past the occasional patrolling professor or wandering ghost that happens upon his path. His travel to the classroom is a simple, straightforward one.

Ashe looks up as Yuri eases the door open. The classroom is dark and empty except for the light shining through the windows at the edge of the classroom and the end of Ashe’s wand. Yuri takes a seat on the desk beside Ashe, glancing loosely at the textbook he has open.

“Did you need something?”

“Do I need to need something from you when I ask to see you?”

Yuri shrugs. “That’s the deal with most students.”

“I’m not ‘most students,’ though,” Ashe says with a smile. “And I don’t need anything from you. I just wanted to see you. I feel like it’s been a while since we talked.” Here, alone, without the prying eyes of everyone around them.

Yuri smiles back indulgently, lets Ashe take his hand to hold. “We have class together in the morning, sparrow.”

“I couldn’t wait.” It’s a lie made without the intent to hurt, one Yuri lets slide. Ashe follows it with a truth: “I justーwanted to have you all to myself for once.”

“Greedy,” Yuri murmurs, watching the flush rise on Ashe’s cheeks as he tilts Ashe’s chin up. He leans closer, whispers into his ear, “But I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

And there is not much to say after that, as Ashe kisses him eagerly while Yuri drops down onto his lap to cradle his face. It feels like they’re chasing each other with each burning kiss, the way they chase each other on the pitch, and when Ashe smiles midway, golden sunshine on his lips, Yuri knows he feels the same.

Yuri breaks away to hear Ashe’s small gasp, the stutter between his breaths. “Is this what you meant by ‘talk’?” he asks, taking pleasure in the deep flush on Ashe’s face.

“I didn’t meanーI wasn’tー”

“Shh.” Yuri silences him with a kiss to the corner of his lips. “I don’t mind, sparrow. I missed you.” _I missed this._

Ashe mutters something he doesn’t catch and buries his head into Yuri’s shoulder. Yuri lets him stay like that, feeling time stretch between them with a flap of gossamer wings, tracing patterns into Ashe’s back, Ashe’s hands winding through his hair, undoubtedly complete and sated with Ashe’s heartbeat thrumming under Yuri’s lips from Ashe’s neck, until Yuri’s legs threaten to fall asleep and Ashe lifts his head up, nudges Yuri reluctantly to sit beside him on the chair instead.

The night passes steadily with Yuri resting his head on Ashe’s shoulder and flipping idly through his textbook, feeling Ashe shake with muted laughter as Yuri points out the small doodles made by Ashe’s friends and doing comparatively more fooling around than homework. Ashe makes it easy for Yuri to distract him, whether it’s by a poke in the cheek or a light tickle into his side, he gives without hesitation or signs of annoyance. At some point after meeting him, Yuri had tried to see if Ashe could ever be annoyed, but he’s starting to think it’s impossible, which says something considering they attend a school to learn _magic_. Ashe is just too good. It almost makes Yuri feel guilty sometimes, but Ashe brings him back every time with the honesty behind his words and the surety in his eyes, and Yuri lets him.

When it comes time for them to leave, they hover outside the classroom. Yuri looks at the Marauder’s Map to give himself something to do while Ashe takes the opportunity to give him one last hug, all the warmth stored within the gentleness of it as Yuri takes all Ashe can give and tries to return it twicefold.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Ashe whispers, and it is just like him to wrest a promise from himself when it isn’t needed, to seal one last kiss between them like he is trying to pour his heart in the spaces that don’t exist between their bodies.

Yuri can’t make promises as easily as Ashe. he is used to lying and deflecting and deceit, everything Ashe doesn’t need or deserve.

(Then, why is he doing this to him?)

So he says, “You’ll need to watch for Jeralt on the fourth floor,” and, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He doesn’t make the words sound like a promise or a vow, but Ashe takes it all in with a willing smile. Yuri traces the smile with his thumb like he can memorize the warmth of it and transfer it into his hands and keep it there.

He walks like a thief into the night, melting into the shadows, and the warmth is gone by the time he makes it to the Slytherin common room, but the text message he gets from Ashe as he prepares for bed telling him he made it back safe keeps him moored all the same.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


“Can youーjust do it one more time, Yuri, it’s hilariousー”

“Hmm, I don’t know. Should I?”

“Come on, please.”

“Well, if you’re going to beg like thatー”

Claude laughed. Yuri sat up straighter, the eyes on the table gravitating toward him as he concentrated. He felt his face shift, remolded by invisible hands - a fellow second year winced at the loud crack of his nose - as he transformed, hair shortening to green, facial features warping.

Yuri tilted his chin up to look down at them sternly with narrowed eyes and said in Seteth’s voice, “I expect you all to be in class in five minutes.”

A student snickered.

Imperiously, in the same voice and straight face, he added, “Claude has a birthmark in the shape of a snake on his butt.”

Across from them, Hilda burst into tears of laughter.

“He was truly meant to be a Slytherin,” Yuri continued seriously, face impassive as the table dissolved into tears, stuttering and laughter.

“Is itーis it true?” Constance looked between the two boys.

“No,” Yuri said. “His birthmark is actually a lion.”

“How did you figure that out?” Claude said, dumbfounded, scratching his head.

Hilda banged the table loudly, calling the attention of a few professors. Yuri smoothly transformed back to his normal form as she wheezed, “Pleaseーplease tell me the birthmark thing is true. _Please_.”

Claude sighed with fake longing. “If only everyone could be blessed with Gryffindor’s stamp of approval. But no, I don’t have a birthmark in the shape of a lion.”

“Which implies that you have a birthmark in the shape of _something_ on your butt.”

“I don’t have a butt birthmark.”

Five minutes to the end of lunch, Ashe caught Yuri outside the Great Hall, cheeks flushed with excitement. “That was amazing,” he said without greeting.

“What?”

“Ohーnothing. I mean, I saw the thing you did at the Slytherin’s table. Professor Seteth? I didn’t know you were aーwhat’s it called, aー”

“Metamorphmagus,” Yuri said, amused at how Ashe brightened in recognition.

“Right, that! It must be amazing, to be able to transform into whatever you want.”

“Not everything.”

“No?” Ashe fell into step beside him, though Yuri was sure they were heading for different classrooms. “I mean, more than the average wizard, at least. Does it help at all in class?”

Yuri hummed disinterestedly. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Ashe - he had only talked with the boy a few times before - but the topic of him being a Metamorphmagus is one that’s been picked clean for Yuri. He’d figured out the ins and outs of this power long ago under his mother’s tutelage, and he’d lived with it long enough - his whole life - that it wasn’t a marvel to him the way it was for others. It was just another tool for him. “Not really. I’m just like any other student, only I can look however I want.”

Ashe seemed to notice his disinterest, because he dropped the topic. Yuri, secretly relieved as Ashe brought up the latest assignment Manuela’s given them, talked with him a few moments more, before leaving for his own class.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Dorothea won’t stop staring. Ashe’s foot next to his is a minor comfort compared to that. While Manuela’s teaching and Ashe is distracted, Yuri takes the opportunity to turn in his seat to face her, a few desks behind. She waves with a smile that’s almost a smirk and points to her phone. Yuri checks his own.

  
  
  


**Dorothea:** I need to talk to you after class

  
  
  


Yuri sends a suspicious look her way, but she only smiles back innocently.

“Go on without me,” he tells Ashe once class is over and they’re packing up. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Alright.”

Dorothea’s waiting for him outside the classroom as the room empties, and she waves at Ashe before he goes on his way. The last of the students leave them behind; Manuela locks the door with one last sharp glance at them and the warning to _not get into any trouble now, it won’t be good for my heart. Or my wrinkles_ , while Yuri thinks it would be better if she left that warning for the Gryffindors.

“I have to say, you’re sneakier than I thought you were, Yurikins.”

“You know, Slytherins,” Yuri says offhandedly, narrowing his eyes when Dorothea leans closer. “What brought on this realization?”

“A little bit of late night reconnaissance,” Dorothea says. She drops her voice to a whisper. “It surprised me when I saw it, but now that I’ve seen you together, I don’t even know why I was so surprised in the first place. I guess I didn’t think he had it in him to lie, or act.”

“He?”

“Your little Hufflepuff secret. How long have you two been together?”

Yuri feels himself slip and fall without the landing, the loss of breath and the quiet shock thundering in his ears. He recovers quickly, stepping away from Dorothea to size her up. “Does it matter?”

“I think it does,” Dorothea says. “Because if it’s been going on for as long as I think it has, then that means you two have been keeping it a secret, which means there’s a reason behind keeping it a secret. But I’m not interested in that.” Yuri hears the silent _yet_ in her voice. “But it would be a shame if someone else were to know about your little secret if you’re trying so hard to keep it under wraps.”

Yuri sighs, forcing his shoulders to loosen. Dorothea won’t hurt him over something like this. “What do you want in exchange for keeping your lips sealed?”

She grins, victorious. “Try out for the school play this year.”

His glare does nothing to waver her smug smile. Figures that she would want this from him in exchange for keeping him and Ashe’s relationship secret. He doesn’t blame her entirely, either - it’s his fault he was so lax last night, kissing Ashe goodbye in the halls at night, spending lunch and class time with him. They must have slipped somehow, and Dorothea’s been trying to get Yuri involved in a school play since their third year, the summer after Rowe had towed Yuri along to a popular wizard theatre, and Dorothea caught Yuri singing to some of the children outside. She just couldn’t let that incident go after that.

“Do you even know what you’re showing this year?”

“Not yet,” Dorothea says. “But if the voting goes as it should, it’ll be...but no, I can’t tell you, Yurikins. That’s classified.” She winks. “Just know that our little dove is getting involved this year.”

Curious as he is about what this could do with Bernadetta, he won’t give her the pleasure of showing his curiosity. He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, fine. I’ll attend tryouts this year. Doesn’t mean I’ll get a role.”

“Oh, you _will_ ,” she says, with enough conviction and confidence Yuri has to wonder where she draws upon it. “I still remember how you sing, and if nothing’s changed, you’re going to get a role. Trust me, Yurikins, I know this.”

Yuri frankly doesn’t care now. “I can go now, can’t I? Now that you’ve got what you want from me.”

Dorothea falters for a moment at his frigid expression before she draws herself back up. “It’s not like I’m keeping you hostage here,” she says, tone purposefully light. “Go on, then.”

He levels her one last look as he hitches up his messenger bag, giving in to curiosity for a moment. “How did you know?”

“I borrowed Flayn’s invisibility cloak last night,” Dorothea says, and that is answer enough.”

“You couldn’t tell otherwise.”

“Not really. I wasn’t lying, about the acting. You’re both good at hiding things. I expected that from you, but Ashe...” She shakes her head. “Are you going to hold it against me, using this against you? I won’t be mad if you did, but I won’t regret it.”

Yuri considers it. He could be mad at Dorothea if he wanted to. Skirt her in the halls, avoid her in the common room. It would be difficult with them being in the same House, but Yuri could manage.

“No,” he decides, because once he tells Ashe about this - which he’ll have to, it’s unavoidable - he wouldn’t like it. And, Yuri thinks, watching Dorothea relax into one of her softer smiles, he likes her. He likes being friends with Dorothea. There’s not a lot of people in the world like Dorothea, people with dreams paired with the courage to chase after them, and she has never asked Yuri for favours other than this one, which is a point he counts for her.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

Yuri hums. “I _was_ looking for a new broom service kit. It would be nice to receive one on Christmas.”

Dorothea huffs a laugh. “Deal,” she says. “I’ll find the best one on the market.”

“Looking forward to it.”

He leaves her behind as he walks to the Great Hall, but it’s fine. They’ll see each other in the common room later.

  
  
  


**Yuri:** we’ve been found out, sparrow

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


My sweet mockingbird,

Wishing you luck in tryouts! I’ve never known of your interest in musicals since you never mentioned it in your previous letters, but your voice has always been sweet, powerful. I cherish the days I heard you singing in our small apartment, and those moments are a balm to soothe my heart when the silence is too loud here.

I’m also wishing you luck with your Quidditch tryouts! I hope the ones who make it to the team will be able to withstand the training you and Claude will be putting them through. After all, you only have the best on the Slytherin team, yes? I hope you win the Cup this year.

But remember, dear mockingbird, to take care of yourself among this. I know you have your NEWTs to worry about as well, but it won’t do anyone any good to have you burn out so early on.

There’s a new tenant in our apartment complex! He’s just down the hall from me, which gave me the chance to meet him while he was moving in. He introduced himself as Aldrin, and he’s a young man who’s a few years older than you, seems to be a recent college graduate. He seems a little eccentric and strange. Is it a new fad to wear sunglasses indoors? He declined my offer to help with bringing any boxes into his flat, said he could handle it himself.

He also has a ghost following him over his shoulder. I’m not quite sure why, because the ghost didn’t say anything, and I don’t think it knows I can see it. Still, I do wonder what it’s doing here, since ghosts tend to stick to areas with magic, and this building doesn’t have much of it, and Aldrin didn’t give any sign of knowing there was a ghost following him, so he must be Muggle, and he can’t see the ghost because of that. Could it be an old friend? I’ll have to try to corner it alone to find out its intentions, but I hope it isn’t looking to hurt anyone, or I’ll have to drive it away. There were so many blood stains on what could have been a hospital gown that I couldn’t tell what the killing wound was. It worries me, what kind of relation Aldrin could have with this ghost, if he’s dangerous too, but it won’t do anyone any good if I made assumptions right now.

I went out jogging with Zenith and her dogs to clear my head for a bit. I think, in times of distress, it’s important to drop whatever’s bothering you and take a break. That goes for you too, mockingbird.

Tell me if you have any problems. I know I can’t do much, far from Hogwarts as I am, but I like knowing. The worrying, not so much, but the knowing and worrying come hand in hand. As a mother, I am used to it, and as your mother, I’ve learned how to cope with it.

  
  
  


With all my heart,

Mama Mockingbird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I asked my friend for a tarot card reading for Yuri’s tarot card reading! It was not accurate for either of us (both him and me).
> 
> There’s a spell in the hp series that was used to refill a bottle of wine which made a lot of ppl wonder how the economy in the wizarding world is even stable if they could just spell money into existence, so I made a quick go-around answer to solve that which are the unnamed magical glasses Yuri uses that confirm whether smth has been replicated with the spell


	3. no more hogwarts houses, society has progressed past the need for hogwarts houses

A disappointed hiss slipped out of him when all he saw after casting the spell was a muted fog, so thin he could see right through it to the blank wall. It evaporated not a second later, leaving him feeling emptier than before, alone in the classroom.

Two knocks on the door. Ashe peeked in, blinking at the sight of Yuri. “Yuri.”

“Sparrow.” Yuri straightened, unsure of what to do. “What are you doing so late in the evening?”

“I’m looking for Professor Jeralt,” he said, stepping into the classroom, the door open behind him showing a hall flickering a dull orange torchlight. “Do you know where he is?”

“No. He left after I got permission to borrow the classroom.”

“Oh.” Ashe scuffed the ground with the worn toe of his shoe. His hold on the textbook in his arms tightened. “I wanted to ask him something.”

“Maybe I can help,” Yuri offered. “I’m not the best in Defence Against the Dark Arts, but I can give it a shot.”

“If it wouldn’t bother you.” Ashe’s face flushed in embarrassment.

“It won’t,” Yuri reassured him. “I’m stuck where I’m at right now anyway, might as well give you a hand while I take a break.”

“Thank you,” Ashe said, opening the textbook for Yuri to peer in where a small pile of papers were stuffed in to act as a bookmark. “I was wondering about the question we had to answer about the boggart...”

“Oh right, our class had that lesson a few days ago.” Yuri could only recall because one of the students’ boggart had turned into a giant spider and the image of eight large red eyes and too many thin, hairy legs wasn’t planning to leave his nightmares anytime soon. “Did the professor do that demonstration too, where they had the students go up to the boggart and practice how to counter it?”

“He did, actually.” Ashe’s smile faded a little, eyes far off. “It was fun until I realized I couldn’t participate.”

“Oh? Why not?”

Ashe’s smile didn’t falter but softened, apologetic. “I didn’t think my boggart would be appropriate for the class.”

That was something to mull over. What kind of boggart could Ashe have that was more terrifying than a giant spider?

“We’re in the same boat,” Yuri admitted. “I couldn’t participate either.” But probably for reasons entirely different from Ashe’s, from what it sounded; Yuri wasn’t sure if it was possible for a boggart to manifest as the personification of failure, and he wasn’t about to test that in front of the class.

Ashe’s brows furrowed in confusion, but he nodded and didn’t ask for Yuri to elaborate, likely because Yuri didn’t ask him before. “Anyway, what are you doing here so late? Not that you have to tell me, but. I’m curious.”

Yuri relaxed, leaning back on a nearby desk. “You’re fine, sparrow. It’s not anything as personal as your boggart. I was practicing the Patronus charm.”

“The Patronus charm?” Ashe repeated. “Isn’t that a highly difficult spell? All I know is that some high level wizards can’t even cast it.”

“They can’t,” Yuri said simply, and squared his shoulders to hide behind a false image. He’d done it plenty of times before, projecting confidence at his weakest. “But I will.” Nevermind the fact that apparently his memories weren’t _happy_ enough for the spell to work.

Ashe looked at him carefully. His next words were spoken slowly, thinking through each word. “It’s fine if you can’t cast it now, you know. We’re only third years.”

Yuri’s frown twisted his mouth, something stubborn clogging his throat. “Age isn’t gonna stop me.”

“No, butーinexperience might,” Ashe said. “The Patronus charm needs happy memories to cast it successfully, right? Maybe you just need more memories. Happy memories. And maybe you’ll be able to cast it the next time you try.”

He wasn’t wrong; Yuri didn’t exactly have a large number of happy memories, as fond as he was of the ones he had.

“I guess you have a point,” Yuri conceded. Ashe’s shoulders uncurled, and he gave Yuri an unsure smile as Yuri lifted himself off the desk. “Let’s go, then.”

“Go where?”

“Making a memory.” Yuri turned to him where he still stood, curious. “You’ve been to the kitchens, haven’t you? I wanna get a snack. We can figure out your homework there.”

He didn’t hear Ashe follow him, but he saw his shadow tailing him along the walls, and that was enough of a hint.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Only Yuri is looking under the table where Ashe is working his foot into the floorboards; he’s the only one who bothers looking. He nudges Ashe’s foot subtly. In the room with them, the rest of the students remain oblivious, distracted with their own tasks or tomfoolery. Claude, Hilda and Lysithea are cramped into one honey-yellow couch, fighting over something-or-other as Marianne watches over them from the ground, petting her bunny with a small smile on her face. Their other friends are relaxed by the Hufflepuff common room’s friendly atmosphere, and normally Yuri would be one of them, but today he flicks a finger at Ashe’s forehead and says softly, with their heads bowed toward each other, “Stop it.”

The guilt looks like it’s been eating away at Ashe all day; it makes Yuri wonder if he fared well through Hufflepuff’s Quidditch tryouts.

“It’s my fault,” Ashe says, has been saying since he got the text. “I said I wanted to meet up.”

Yuri glances around them and flicks a soundless _Muffliato_ over them. Can never be too safe, he’s learned that now and again. He kicks Ashe without any sharpness to it under the table. “It’s not your fault. We weren’t careful enough. That’s on us both. Taking the blame doesn’t change anything.” Best to just move on. What’s done is done, and there’s nothing to be changed about it now.

The guilt won’t leave Ashe’s face. Yuri hates seeing it there. “What now?” he says. “You have to perform for a play you don’t actually want to be in, won’t you?”

Yuri shrugs like it’s no big deal, like he hasn’t had to rationalize and convince himself for the whole day that this was fine. “Unless you have any other ideas, that’s the plan, sparrow.”

Ashe glances down at his papers but clearly isn’t focusing on the words. “It’s not fair,” he mumbles.

“No,” Yuri agrees, “but we knew what we were getting into.” When Ashe doesn’t look him in the eyes, he nudges his shoulder. “Look at the good side; now you can ogle me all you want when I’m on stage without anyone questioning it.”

Ashe’s face doesn’t lift, but his mouth twitches, lips still pursed. Yuri nudges him again and waggles his eyebrows, and that’s all it takes to get Ashe to snort, hidden behind his hand, as they shove each other back and forth, homework forgotten.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


**Yuri:** ror after astronomy?

**Ashe:** ok!

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


On Friday night in the Room of Requirement as Flayn, Linhardt and Claude pack up to leave, Yuri tells them, “I’m staying behind.”

Flayn smiles and waves a cheery goodbye, dragging Linhardt behind her as she places her invisibility cloak over both of them; Linhardt has to slouch for it to effectively cover them both. Claude’s the only one left; his gaze on Yuri is shrewd. “Waiting for someone?”

“Don’t bother checking the Marauder’s Map,” Yuri says, which is an answer in and of itself.

Claude puts his hands up in a placating gesture. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He rolls his shoulders and stretches. “I’m going right to sleep after those tryouts today.”

“You better return Anna’s pouch to her.” Claude’s only a stand-in today since Anna unfortunately got bitten in Herbology by the aptly named Biting Billgeria.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it right here.” Claude flashes the miniaturized pouch and slips it back into his pocket.

“I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

“Hope you get back to the common room without any...complications.”

Yuri smirks. “When have I ever gotten caught outside curfew?”

“Fair enough.” Claude shoots him a fingergun as he slips out the door.

Yuri stretches his arms and uncrosses his legs to stand. The Room of Requirement looks bare today, with wide, open space and a tall ceiling. The current of magic in Hogwarts becomes much more prominent in the Room of Requirement, louder in a way it isn’t when walking the halls. It’s like spending your whole time yelling to someone over an expanse of distance and then being able to talk to them through a phone; the distance is still there, but communication becomes easier. If Yuri concentrates on a thought long enough, the Room of Requirement follows; moments later, the air shimmers as a few dummies appear in a row.

His body aches a little from flying today, giving tips to Slytherin’s newest potential Quidditch players, and he can still feel the wind pricking his face, but he might as well get some work done while he’s waiting.

Ashe arrives while he’s practicing his Patronus, hip checking the door closed and looking distracted, but he still manages a smile as Yuri turns to him. They’ve been using the Room of Requirement since Claude accidentally stumbled upon it in their fourth year, and it’s used every once in a while by the older students for practice or other meetings the professors don’t need to know about.

Ashe smiles encouragingly. “It looks like it’s starting to take shape.”

“You think so?” Yuri appraises the fog in front of him, more stable than the first time he tried it. The animal is small, the shape still a blob, fluttering around Yuri in a wobbly circle.

“You must have chosen a good memory,” Ashe says, leaving his messenger bag near the door. “What were you thinking of?”

“You, obviously.”

Ashe stutters in his step but his sheepish laugh bursts out of him without any restraint, even while he’s pink around the ears. Yuri lets himself feel proud of the reaction he caused.

“Speaking of Patronuses,” Ashe says. “I heard Edelgard managed to produce her Patronus for the first time.”

Yuru perks up; that’s new. “Really? What was it?”

“A swan.”

Yuri mulls that over and shrugs with one shoulder. “How about Dimitri?” He only asks because the two are step siblings, closely connected but with their own friendship circles.

Ashe shakes his head solemnly. “No. I haven’t heard anything about him.”

Ashe would know more than Yuri about Dimitri; the two are friends - who isn’t friends with Ashe? - and Ashe is friends with Dedue, too. Yuri didn’t expect Dimitri to be able to produce a Patronus. Knowing what he went through as a child, it would be difficult to have any happy memories after that.

“He’ll get there,” Yuri says convincingly. He doesn’t care much about the boy, but he knows Ashe does.

Ashe nods again. Wordlessly declaring the topic of conversation over, he rolls up his sleeves and pulls out his wand. “Wanna help with the spell we learned in Charms?”

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


**NOTICE BOARD: Advice Column**

I’ve liked someone for a long time and want to confess to them, but I’m scared that I’ll be rejected or that it will go right over their heads. How should I tell them? - Hufflepuff Seventh-Year

\- Sounds like your crush might be a little dense. You should try telling them outright when you feel the time is right. Maybe even try setting the mood a bit, take them on a date! - Hilda

\- And hey, if all doesn’t go well, you can always ask me out. You sound like someone I’d date. - Sylvain

> But you’re...not exactly picky, Sylvain. - Ingrid
> 
> What can I say, everyone’s wonderful and deserves a piece of me. - Sylvain

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


With Hogsmeade visits starting this weekend, students pour out of Hogwarts in droves to the quaint town, talking loudly amongst themselves and probably ignoring the piles of homework they have. Some of the older students have opted to stay in to work, but Yuri’s group goes to Hogsmeade as they always do. It’s the perfect weather for it, not too hot or cold, the wind playing with their hair and the sun shining benevolently. Lysithea and Cyril seem interested in visiting the bookshop Tomes and Scrolls, and Claude is trailing towards Zonko’s Joke Shop, but they end up at Honeydukes, the shop stuffed with other students and the air smelling of sweets.

It’s there they run into Ashe’s group, hands linked like a line of kindergarteners on a school trip. Ashe sends a relieved smile to Yuri as the two groups converge, Yuri sweeping an eye over the group, finding two people missing.

“Sothis isn’t with you today?” Yuri says. He doesn’t mention Marianne’s blatant missing person; full moon had been a few nights ago, and she was probably still recovering.

Byleth nods. “She’s taking a nap after what she saw last night.”

Yuri lifts a brow. “Did something exciting happen, or is she just using that as a general excuse?”

Ashe winces. “Marianne tried to confess toーuh, you knowーand it went right over her head, like she thought.”

“Oh,” Yuri says blankly. “Huh.” He peers over the sea of heads to see Hilda shaking a handful of sugar-spun quills in Lysithea, Annette and Mercedes’ direction. “I didn’t take her as someone dense.” The opposite, really. Hilda may seem sweet at first glance and from a distance, but she’s always used her charms to her advantage whenever possible, and that requires a certain amount of cunning.

“Yeah,” Ashe murmurs. “Marianne wasn’t...feeling any braver after her confession failed.”

Yuri nods. “I can talk to Hilda if she wants.”

“Ah, no.” Ashe shakes his head. “I think she really wants to do this herself. Thank you for offering, though. I’ll make sure to tell her.”

Yuri shrugs; it’s not really his problem. His gaze wanders to the seventh-year Gryffindors nearby.

“I bet I can fit _ten_ Fizzing Whizzbees in my mouth,” Caspar declares.

Edelgard sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose as Balthus claps Caspar over the back and says, “Don’t be a coward. Make it twenty.”

“Hold on, Caspar,” Edelgard says. “At least buy the pack before youー”

Caspar rips open the pack, and the sound of a loud steam whistle blasts through the shop. “Oops.”

As students wince and cover their ears as a harried employee pushes through the crowd to them, Yuri turns to the others and shouts, “Why don’t we get out of here while we still can?”

They murmur quick agreements and rush out, dragging Lysithea behind them, who’s still complaining of not being able to purchase the latest cake Honeydukes released; Zonko’s Joke Shop should be calmer than here.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Honeydukes was as full as it was in the beginning of the year a week before Christmas, but the air was different, charged with anxiety as students rushed about. Apparently even in his sixth year, Hogsmeade still had new experiences to offer, like getting stepped on by Hogwarts students who had been procrastinating on buying gifts for friends and family and awkwardly running into Seteth deliberating whether to buy the Sugared Butterfly Wings and hoping he wouldn’t bring up the homework he had given them for the weekend. How fun.

“It’s more crowded than I expected,” Yuri said, voice rising a little to be heard by Ashe as they were jostled on all sides. They ended up shoved into a corner of Honeydukes in the bustle.

“Holidays make people panic,” Ashe said, his body shielded by Yuri’s from the crowd, looking uncomfortable at the closeness.

Yuri, the taller of the two, craned his head, but there was no sign of Byleth and Sothis, the other two who had tagged along with them this weekend. “Looks like we lost them.”

“They’ll probably be fine,” Ashe said. “Do you wanna go look for them?”

“Nah. Let’s just try and work through this crowd.” Yuri grabbed Ashe’s hand, tilting his head when Ashe jumped. “So we won’t lose each other, yeah?”

Ashe ducked his head and nodded, not meeting Yuri’s eyes. They passed by a stand of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans, displaying the newest flavours. Ashe hummed in interest and tugged at Yuri’s hand to pull him to a stop. “Have you ever been to Baskin Robbins? They have thirty-one ice cream flavours.”

“I have, actually,” Yuri said. When he was little, something his mother would take them there when the day was particularly hot, and the air-conditioning wasn’t working in their apartment. “But still, thirty-one is way less flavours than Every Flavour Beans.”

“Yeah, but some of their flavours are...kinda weird,” Ashe said. “I don’t know why anyone would want their ice cream to taste like earwax or pepper-up.”

Yuri shrugged. “Acquired tastes. Wizards are weird.”

Ashe laughed. The sound goes all the way down Yuri’s throat, warm and syrupy. Unknown to Ashe, Yuri pulled him a little bit closer as they left Honeydukes. “You’re a wizard, though.”

“Only on my mum’s side. Besides, I was raised in the Muggle world. Now, where do you wanna go next, since we’re celebrating you finally getting your braces off?”

“Tomes and Scrolls? There’s some books I wanna check out.”

“Alright, let’s go.”

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The posters are up around the school on Monday, advertising auditions for the musical the drama club’s performing this year, a drawn picture of a girl in blue walking on air, held by a man with a checkered pink coat.

Hilda does a double take on the way to lunch back to the poster. “Howl’s Moving Castle? _The_ Howl’s Moving Castle, the movie?”

Lysithea surveys the poster with more caution. “The book or the movie?”

“I mean, there was already a musical created for it, but it says here ‘original’,” Claude says, finger tapping the words ‘original songs and dance routines’ at the bottom of the poster.

Dorothea finds Yuri later before the end of lunch with the CD of the music he’ll be singing and a sweet smile that Yuri frowns at. “Auditions are in two weeks,” she says. “Make sure you make the cut.”

Yuri takes the offered CD with a wrinkled nose and a grimace. “I’d really rather not.”

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


His voice wavers a bit on the high notes. It’s a frustrating thing combined with Yuri’s need for perfection with anything he throws himself intoーif Yuri’s going to do this musical, he wants to get it right.

He listens to the CD again with Howl’s parts as he takes a break with a swig of water, relaxing on the chair the Room of Requirement provided him. A part of him wonders how Dorothea got together the CD and who sung the lyrics, since the only recognizable voice is hers. She must’ve been working on this for some time before the club had even decided on which musical to perform this year.

A quiet shuffling sound interrupts his thoughts as the next song plays, this one Sophie’s. Ashe peeks into the room and shuts the door behind him.

“What are you doing here?”

Ashe blinks, setting his bag by the door. “Astronomy ended a few minutes ago.”

“We didn’t agree to meet. I’m practicing for auditions.”

“Let me help,” Ashe says. “I’ll sing Sophie’s parts. It’s better to sing the duets with a partner, right?”

Yuri sighs. So Ashe is _still_ feeling guilty about this situation. “ _Can_ you sing Sophie’s parts?”

“Can _you_ dance?” Ashe counters with a teasing smile. “Don’t think I don’t remember the Yule Ball. Will you be able to do the dance sequences for the musical?”

“You were as bad as me, sparrow.”

“Yeah, but according to the count you stepped on my toes more.”

“You were keeping count?” Yuri says in mock surprise. “This is a competition, isn’t it.”

“Dance with me,” Ashe blurts. His face immediately blisters like it’s under the sun, but he stays staring steadfast at Yuri. His smile wobbles onto his face, shy and open. He makes himself so easy to read. “If I step on your foot, I’ll stop bothering you about helping you practice for auditions. But if you step on mine, I get to help you a little.”

“Or,” Yuri says, “you’re just using this as an excuse to dance with me.”

Ashe smiles sweetly. “Are you scared you’ll lose?”

Well, fuck. Now Yuri _has_ to dance with him.

He doesn’t show his reluctance as he takes Ashe’s hand, presses their bodies closer together than the last time they did this. The song playing from the CD is one with a steady enough beat to dance to, a guitar and Sophie’s singing. Ashe follows his lead as they circle the room, Yuri’s muscle memory lending to his adequate performance thus far. Ashe has a strange look on his face, wonder and happiness contained into one expression.

Feeling that his footwork is solid enough, Yuri says, “You know, you don’t have to help me with this. I can handle it on my own.”

“I know,” Ashe says with a shrug. “But you don’t have to do this alone, and I can help you, and I want to help you.”

“You just feel guilty because you were involved.”

“I can’t stop how I feel, but I won’t let it stop me from helping you.” Ashe tilts his head. “When are you going to accept help from anyone? It won’t hurt.”

“Probably,” Yuri says. He wouldn’t know. He’s always been able to handle most of his problems alone; it’s how he’s gotten through most of his schoolwork. Even now, he’s rarely had to work in pairs or group projects. Quidditch doesn’t count, either, only because the Seeker has an entirely different task from the other players that separates them, though they can be included in some tactics.

“I guess I could give it a try,” he admits. Working with someone outside of class is not a new idea, and he’s not entirely averse to it. It’s not like it’s going to kill him. At the same time, though, it’s not like Ashe needs to get himself involved in this when Yuri can deal with it himself. “You’re wasting your time helping me, though, when you can be doing something else.”

“It’s not a waste,” Ashe says earnestly. “I like spending time with you.”

Yuri chuckles. “I would hope that’s the case since we’re dating.” But how long will that last?

Ashe laughs, head thrown back, the lights splintering shades of gray through his hair and shining on his freckled face. Mesmerized, Yuri doesn’t realize his mistake until Ashe makes a noise and looks down where his foot is caught under Yuri’s.

Ashe’s grin is both triumphant and sweet. “Looks like I win.”

Yuri presses a kiss onto his cheek, feels a giggle bubble up from Ashe’s chest. “Looks like you did, sparrow.” And it has to be some kind of effect Ashe has on him, for Yuri to not even be mad about this loss.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


On his way back from the washroom Yuri somehow managed to walk into three couples snogging in the halls instead of in the dorms like civilized people so he wasn’t exactly enjoying himself when he collapsed at a random empty table to watch more waltzing couples dancing to some song he didn’t recognize. When he was younger, he only listened to Muggle music; whatever this was didn’t sound familiar. But everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves, so he resigned himself to watching the night’s progress until he’ll have to drag his friends back to their dorm.

The chair beside him moved as Ashe sat down with a closed-mouthed smile, setting a plate of various desserts on the table.

“Bored?” he asked.

Yuri snorted. “Please. This is the most entertained I’ve been since Claude dyed all the house flags pink at the start of the year.” He waved a hand as Ignatz sent Ingrid careening right into the tables set away from the dance floor.

Ashe giggled into his hands. “I know, right? I’m sorry, but, Byleth...” Yuri tracked his hand to the boy awkwardly dancing in the crowd, looking entirely out of place with his stilted dance moves and absolutely unbothered by it. Is this what Muggle school events are like? Yuri felt like he dodged a bullet, but he wasn’t sure, because wizard schools seem to have just as awkward school dances. “Not that I can dance much better than him, but...”

“I know what you mean,” Yuri said. “But at least he isn’t Linhardt.” Said Ravenclaw had luckily been dragged off the dancefloor by Caspar, but now Yuri could see his feet peeking under the table, most likely asleep. Yuri didn’t know how he slept through this, but he also remembered Linhardt managed to sleep through Herbology class when they had to re-pot Mandrakes, so this wasn’t a surprise.

“But anyway, back to Bylethー” Yuri pointed a thumb in his direction as his other hand reached for the cupcake on Ashe’s plate. Ashe pushed the plate toward him. “How did he manage to get into the Triwizard Tournament when we’re only fifth years?”

“Oh,” Ashe said. He leaned closer to be heard over the music. He could just use a _Muffliato_ , Yuri mused to himself as he followed his action. “Sothis wanted to see if he would die in the tournament, so she got Linhardt to purchase a track picker to put his name in the Goblet or Fire without crossing the Aging Line.”

“Smart, but harsh.” Yuri was impressed. He glances again at Byleth. “Was the hair her prank, too?”

“Oh, no, that was Flayn, by accident. Apparently the colouring’s permanent.”

Yuri hummed. Around a bite of cupcake he mumbles, “He looks like mint ice cream.”

Ashe shrugged with a small wince. “It could be worse. Could be fire truck red.”

“Or magenta.”

“Or puke green.”

“Orー”

The night continued with their small observations and jokes as they finished the desserts on Ashe’s plates and eventually moved under the buffet tables, sneaking food into their plates like someone would stop them (they wouldn’t). When a slow song started playing, Yuri joked about emerging from under the table to slow dance with Ashe, but when Ashe actually offered his hand seriously, he took it. It turned into more of a game, with both of them being less than good dancers and having barely listened to the dance lessons given by their respects head of house, so they spent more time spinning each other in circles and bumping into other playful pairs until Ashe gave a full bellied laugh when Petra had to catch him in her arms after Yuri launched him their way. Dorothea was less than amused at their interruption.

Before they left as the Yule Ball was drawing to a close, Ashe piled a bunch of desserts high on a plate with Yuri’s help and told him they would be snacks for later tonight and the next morning, as if his common room wasn’t located right beside the kitchens.

In Potions that afternoon, Ashe slid him a cupcake, and Yuri spent five minutes wondering if it was one of the ones they pilfered from last night before eating it before Seteth saw.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Breakfast that morning is less than ideal because it’s in the morning (as it always is, or else it wouldn’t be called breakfast anymore), which means Yuri is unfortunately awake and dragged to the Great Hall after Cyril ripped open his bedscreens and Claude sat and watched from his bed like this was entertainment.

Dorothea drops into the bench in front of him and starts without preamble, “You don’t have Quidditch practice today, do you? Good, because I’m helping you practice at lunch.”

“Didn’t ask,” Yuri says, and, "Aren’t you interfering with the judging by helping me?”

“Not at all, since I’m not included in the judging process,” Dorothea says. “I need to hear for myself if there’s still a little songbird in you, or else this will have been a waste of time for the both of us.”

Yuri shrugs; he’s already getting help from Ashe, but a little more from someone in the drama club won’t be bad. He texts Ashe that he won’t be there at lunch, and returns to his breakfast.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Yuri gets his chance to ask Dorothea about the music and lyrics for the musical that evening as they’re studying in the Slytherin common room. At the question, Dorothea perks up. Meanwhile, Bernadetta flinches from her side of the table and shrinks into Cyril’s side.

“Why, I got our darling Bernie to help, of course! And Manuela.”

“Really?!” Hilda looks excited at the news. Yuri can understand; for however long they’ve known Bernadetta, she’s rare to show any of her projects. Providing lyrics for the school musical is new, and not something he imagined her doing. “Oh, that’s great! So everything really is gonna be original like the poster said. Sounds like fun.”

“I’m looking forward to any material the orchestra will get to work with,” Constance says.

Hilda leans back with a sigh. Behind her, the silhouette of a merperson slips through the windows. “Man, I’m gonna be so busy this year...” Lysithea rolls her eyes. “You know, ever since we saw the poster for the musical, I’ve been wondering what houses they’d be in.”

“The characters?” Claude asks.

“Yeah. I’d say Sophie for Hufflepuff, but I’m not sure...”

“Which version?”

“Hm?”

“The movie or book version?”

“Oh right.” Hilda hums, tapping her chin. “I guess they’d be different depending on which ones, right?”

Constance arches a brow. “Are the characters that different from each other between the two versions?”

“Eh...” Hilda gestures with a hand that means _more or less_. “I’d say so, yeah.”

Claude grabs the large white board and wheels it in front of their group by the windows. Yuri takes this to mean that they’re in this conversation for the long run and abandons his half-baked Alchemy essay. Claude writes _Sophie_ and _Howl_ at the top and splits the board in two with a line down the centre. He makes two columns down by the left which say ‘book’ and ‘film.’

“I can’t really think of anything for Sophie.” Hilda shrugs. “She kind of feels like a Hufflepuff in both of them, doesn’t she?”

As Claude writes that suggestion on the board, Cyril says, “I’d put her in Slytherin in both versions.”

“Why?”

“Because she needs character growth. At the start of the book and film, she’s aimless with what she wants to do with her life. Putting her in Slytherin would help her find herself.”

“But that’s not how the Sorting Hat sorts students. The students are sorted based on which house qualities they value most.”

Cyril frowns. “No it doesn’t.”

“Really?” Hilda tilts her head. “That’s how I was sorted.”

“Are you saying you were sorted into Slytherin for a different reason, Cyril?” Claude asks.

“Yeah. The Sorting Hat told me I had to learn how to be independent from Rhea.”

Claude whistles impressively. “You didn’t tell Headmistress Rhea that, did you?”

“No.”

“Um,” Bernadetta says. “Actually, I was sorted into Slytherin for a similar reason.”

“It makes sense if I think about it,” Dorothea muses. “Neither of you really ooze ‘Slytherin’ the way some of us do. Huh. Is that why someone as gloomy as Hubert is a Hufflepuff?”

“I don’t think so,” Bernadetta says. “You’ll have to ask him, but we shouldn’t assume...”

“I don’t think the house stereotypes always fit,” Yuri says. “I mean, Lysithea’s what you’d expect from a textbook stereotypical Ravenclaw, but she’s in Slytherin.” Lysithea peeks up at her name, eyes narrowed over a large textbook.

“She studies how you’d expect a Ravenclaw to study, but if you think about it, all the Ravenclaws we know aren’t that stereotypical,” Claude says. “Flayn’s obsessed with dragons and fish, the only way you can get Linhardt to focus on anything is to start talking about wands, and Ignatz is an artist - not exactly what you expect from academic Ravenclaws. The only thing the three of them have in common is a bottomless thirst for knowledge just for the sake of learning.”

“You’re right.” Dorothea flicks her hand at the white board. “So, Sophie in Slytherin? I’m fine with that idea.”

Claude adds those notes to Sophie’s column. “Anything else, or are we moving on to Howl?”

“Howl’s a bit more difficult, isn’t he? He’s handsome, mysterious, and...”

“Stupid,” Lysithea finishes.

Constance wrinkles her nose. “He wasn’t... _awful_ in the film we watched.”

“Yeah, but he also didn’t spend most of the film with pink hair or avoiding his problems like some kind ofーproblem-avoider.”

“Sophie had her hands full,” Yuri says, remembering the overdramatic hair dye scene.

“I can relate.” Lysithea throws a stink-eye at Claude, who bows dramatically.

“If we follow Cyril’s reasoning then, wouldn’t he be in Gryffindor for the book? Since he needs courage to face his problems head-on, or something,” Hilda says. “He’s not a Ravenclaw, he’s not really passionate about any subject, and he doesn’t seem like the type to value his cleverness or wisdom.”

As Claude writes that onto the board, Cyril says, “I can’t imagine what house he would be in for the film. The only one that comes to mind is Hufflepuff or Gryffindor.”

“I could see him in Hufflepuff. I know you guys said that the stereotypes weren’t all that true, but it makes sense at that standpoint if in the film Howl was a Hufflepuff and Sophie a Slytherin, and in the book Howl was a Gryffindor, because they fight _waaay_ more often in the book.”

“Howl’s a fucking disaster,” Yuri agrees.

“Alright, looks like the council has decided.” Claude turns back to them with a smile. “Any thoughts? Final comments?”

“Let’s move on to the next questions.” Dorothea stands up, takes the marker from a confused Claude and flips the white board to its empty backside. Bernadetta mouths _next question?_ to Yuri like they’re suddenly taking an impromptu mock exam as Constance leans forward in interest. Hilda actively tries to escape the circle their studying session has become and is stopped by Claude.

Dorothea shows the board. All it says is one question: _What house would Percy Jackson be sorted into?_

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


**NOTICE BOARD: Miscellaneous Questions**

I’m an exchange student from Illvermorny and I’m glad the classrooms are as small as they are. In Illvermorny, the classrooms are the size of football fields because they failed to take into account how many children in America were wizards and so the classroom sizes ended up growing as the years passed. Are there any other exchange students who had this problem? - Honorary Gryffindor Student

\- What do you mean there’s only one wizarding school in America, I thought that was a joke... - Hilda

\- Someone please say sike - Sylvain

\- At least they don’t have Peeves - Sothis

> I can only imagine what he’ll plan next should he sees this comment - Edelgard
> 
> Yes. A shame he can’t read. - Sothis

\- Hello, student from Mahoutokoro here! We’re in the same boat as you students in Illvermorny, since we’re the only registered magical school in all of Asia. It’s funny how Europe has three registered magical schools but most continents only get one. Don't get me started on our school's name... - Bitter Honorary Hufflepuff Student

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Yuri hates waking up early in the morning. He hates it even more when it’s a weekend and he still has to wake up early but according to Claude he has to help ‘set an example for the rest of the Quidditch team.’ Well, Yuri thinks as he pretends to sleep the fifth time Claude’s called his name, the rest of the Quidditch team can go fuck itsー

A cold force wraps around his ankle and yanks him out of his warm bed covers.

“Wakey wakey,” Claude singsongs as Yuri drags the covers off the bed and wraps them around his body as he floats in the air upside down.

Yuri glowers at him. “Fuck off.”

“We can’t have that now, mockingbird. Practice starts at eight and we have the field all day today.”

“It’s Saturday.”

“Don’t care.” Claude pulls the covers off Yuri, both of them struggling on either ends of the blanket as Claude goads him on, “Don’t you want to win? It’s our final year at Hogwarts. I wanna leave something behind for the students to look at and remember. Something like, maybe a big trophy with our team’s names on it.”

The serious look in his eyes is the only reason Yuri relents, letting Claude take away the covers and place them back on his bed.

The dull sunrise is a new kind of hell as the pair make their way to the Quidditch pitch. To no one’s surprise, there are a few figures flying in the air, but as they approach Yuri realizes that none of them are on the Slytherin Quidditch team.

Claude sighs. “Well, it’s not like practice has officially started yet, so I won’t stop them. Wanna join?”

Yuri grins at him and mounts his broom, feeling the last of his lethargy wear off as he takes to the air with Claude beside him. He stops beside Sothis who’s floating midair and swinging her legs lazily, eating a croissant, watching two other figures flit about the pitch.

“This isn’t an official Quidditch practice so you won’t mind if we interrupt, yes?”

Sothis shrugs. “It’s your field today.”

“Great.” Claude turns to the other two and calls, “Hey, By! Nice somersault!”

The other two finally spot them on the field and fly to their area. Byleth nods in silent greeting while Ashe waves. Neither of them are in Quidditch gear, and their clothes look dishevelled, but they look more awake than Yuri feels, though Ashe looks surprised to see him.

“I thought you would be practicing for your audition.”

Yuri shrugs with one shoulder. “I’m not skipping Quidditch practice for that.”

“Oh right, Slytherins have the field today. We’ll leave once practice starts.”

“Aw, you’re sweet.” Yuri grins. “Any other person would have stuck around to find out ourー” He wiggles his fingers “ _ーnefarious_ plans.”

“We don’t need to know your plans to beat you,” Sothis says confidently, rolling her eyes. “When we defeat you, it’ll be fair and humiliating for your team.”

“You can certainly try,” Claude says. “Anyway, make sure you tell the other two down there to leave before practice starts, alright?” He nods at the last two figures on the ground. “That’s Ferdinand and...Hubert, isn’t it?”

“What’s Hubert doing here?” Yuri asks.

Sothis shrugs. “Those two were here when we arrived, but they haven’t really done any flying.”

Yuri was under the impression Hubert was scared of heights. Watching him struggle a few feet above the ground on Ferdinand’s broom, that still seems true. “Huh.”

Byleth tilts his head in Yuri’s direction. “I didn’t know you were interested in performing.”

“I’m not,” Yuri says flatly. When the rest of them wait for an explanation, he sighs. “Dorothea asked for a favour.”

“Damn, I didn’t think she would manage to rope you into that no matter how many times she asked,” Claude chuckles. “Now I owe Hilda.”

Yuri narrows his eyes. “Don’t tell me youー”

Claude clears his throat loudly. “Anyway! What were you three up to before we arrived?”

That bastard. They definitely made some kind of bet about this. Yuri’s gonna have to interrogate Hilda later.

Sothis makes a few lazy rounds of the pitch with Claude chattering beside her as the two of them with Byleth try out tricks and flips on their brooms. Ashe can balance on his broom now, coasts steadily down the pitch while Yuri tracks him a few feet below and sees how he doesn’t waver or fall like the first time he tried it, arms stretched out to balance and knees bent. He has a new broom now, too, the sleeker and lighter Celebrio that suits the Seeker position much more.

It makes Yuri think that mornings aren’t all that bad, as long as Ashe is there.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


**Yuri:** happy birthday sparrow. was there anything you wanted to do today to celebrate?

**Ashe:** sorry! i’m busy today. but thanks for the sweets! I’ll be sure to tell you how they taste <3

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Between school, club activities and audition practice, it’s a wonder Yuri gets anything done. He’s not sure how he’s going to handle the additional load if he gets his role in the musical - which he _has_ to get at this point, he’s done so much practicing that he’d be ashamed if he didn’t get the role, even if he doesn’t want it. Ashe arrives at his practices more often than not whenever Yuri messages him, and they get work done at a reasonable pace. The two of them work well together; neither of them are easily distracted when they have a task set for them, and Ashe picks up Sophie’s lines quicker than Yuri expected, sings them the way he could imagine Sophie wound sound, meek yet well-meaning with an edge to it just below the surface.

That day of auditions has Yuri in the part of Hogwarts he visits the least often: the theatre.

Everyone knows Hogwarts didn’t have a theatre or a drama club before. While there was an academy for wizards dedicated to theatre and performance arts - the Wizarding Academy of Dramatic Arts -, there had never been need for a drama club in Hogwarts until more students suggested it.

The castle of Hogwarts is impossible to control. It functions under the desires of the students. Made with the blood of the four founders and filled with centuries worth of magic, it formed a mind of its own. And when enough students asked for a theatre, Hogwarts answered the call.

The lights are aimed toward the stage, the audience seats filled somewhat by students auditioning, along with others supporting their friends. Yuri finds a spot for himself in the back, resting his legs on an empty chair in front of him to enjoy the show, since the first auditions are for Sophie’s role.

Yuri pays attention to each audition out of a sense of politeness and the fact that he’ll end up working with one of the auditioning students, applauding for each one but not really focusing, letting his gaze wander to the other seated students and concentrating on his own audition.

That is, until he hears a familiar voice announce himself as he steps onto the stage.

Yuri does a double take and narrows his eyes as Ashe introduces himself to the judges. He’s too far to see his face, but the lyrics Yuri wrote and printed out for him are scrunched into Ashe’s fist, his foot tapping nervously in the agitated silence, and Yuri doesn’t need to see him clearly to know that his inhale as he begins sounds like an explosion in a noiseless room.

Ashe bumbles into the song with an awkwardness that’s immediately endearing, singing Sophie’s song about living in a hat shop and making hats for a living. The lyrics are as aimless as Sophie’s dreams, flat and bland, the eldest of three siblings with all the responsibility. His voice doesn’t choke on the high notes like when he first started practicing with Yuri, but glides up and echoes like the songbird he is, and Yuri wants to be mad, he really does, because he had no idea Ashe was planning to do this, but he’s also amazed at how Ashe managed to hide this so neatly from him. Always a surprise with that one.

As Ashe takes a bow, Yuri claps along with the audience, purposefully louder than the rest so Ashe catches his eyes as he straightens up. If Yuri could talk to him immediately, he would, but unfortunately he has his own wretched audition, so Ashe will have to wait.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


**Yuri:** meet me tonight, classroom 6b

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


He’s sitting on one of the desks, eyes on the door when Ashe creeps in, soundlessly shutting the door and joining him. His nervous tick is nowhere to be found, and Yuri takes comfort in the fact that at least Ashe doesn’t feel threatened when he’s with him before tugging him forward by his necktie, curling his fingers into his collar.

“What game are you playing at, sparrow?” he murmurs, placing his cold hand on the back of Ashe’s neck and feeling him shudder. “When I told you not to feel guilty about getting caught, I meant it. So what are you doing now, auditioning for the musical?”

“I know. I know you’re mad at me for doing this.” Ashe’s hand curls around Yuri’s wrist, not to grab, but resting there. “You think this is your burden alone to bear, but it doesn’t have to be. I made this decision on my own terms. If you had to audition for the play, then so did I.”

“I didn’t just _have_ to audition, I also have to earn the role. No offence, sparrow, but your chances of getting Sophie’s role are low.”

“Not as low as they could’ve been,” Ashe rebukes gently. “Did you know Annette didn’t audition this year? Usually she gets one of the leading roles, but she told me she wanted to focus on her studies this year.”

“Still, that guarantees nothing. Don’t you realize it looks odd for you to audition now when you’ve never had an interest in the drama club before?” How long will it take for someone to connect the dots?

Ashe smiles lopsidedly. “I guess it’s a good thing you’re not the only reason I’m auditioning, then.”

“Oh?” Yuri draws back to see him better and admire his figure in the moonlight. “Tell me then, why else did you audition?”

“Marianne.”

The name is so unexpected that Yuri forgets to hide his surprise. “What about her?”

“She wanted to gain some confidence in herself, so she decided to audition for the musical. I decided to audition along with her as moral support.”

“This is about her failed confession, isn’t it?” Ashe nods. Yuri sighs after considering all of this, drawing their foreheads together and closing his eyes, feels the heat coming off Ashe pressing on him. “Still, sparrow...”

Ashe’s thumb repeatedly brushes the inside of Yuri;s wrist comfortingly. “I worked everything out,” he says sincerely.

“Yes,” Yuri says. “It seems you did.” How sneaky of him. Yuri doesn’t even have a counterpoint in mind; it’s too late now that auditions are over. They’ll have to wait for the results.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The results from the auditions are posted outside the Great Hall the next morning. Dorothea drags him through the crowd to the front either by smiling charmingly at students or discreetly stepping on their feet. His name is found next to Howl’s and Dorothea congratulates him while admiring her own earned role as Ms. Angorian, but Yuri was expecting it. He’s here this morning for another reason as he searches for a different name.

Ashe doesn’t have the leading role. In fact, it’s Marianne’s name scrawled next to Sophie’s, to a few students’ murmured surprise.

Instead, Yuri finds Ashe’s name below Marianne’s, right next toー

“Understudy,” a voice says in awe. “I’m the understudy.”

Ashe looks like he just woke up in a hurry to arrive here, pressed next to Yuri by the crowd. The relieved, prideful smile on his face fills Yuri up from the top of his head to the tips of his toes and balloons his heart as Dorothea tugs them out of the crowd to the Great Hall.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


**NOTICE BOARD: Lost Belongings**

Has anyone lost their copy of the script for Howl’s Moving Castle? - Byleth

\- That would be mine, I seem to have misplaced it. - Lorenz

\- Damn Byleth, how do you keep finding everything? - Sylvain

> ...I’m a Hufflepuff. - Byleth

  
  
  


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Their first meeting for the musical is in the afternoon. Since the stage crew needs the stage first to start planning set designs and such, the cast reconvene in a classroom nearby, desks cleared to the sides and sunshine filtering through the windows.

Manuela has them doing vocal exercises before they start singing the songs. They start with ensemble songs first, ones that require the whole cast, and work their way down from there to solos.

Almost everyone is there, except for students who have been called out for class reasons or other club meetings. As they work on songs that don’t require Howl, Yuri takes the opportunity to quietly meet the rest of the cast during his breaks. Some of them are students in his year who he already knows like Dorothea and Lorenz, while others are in different houses or years.

One of the few he doesn’t get to meet is Marianne. While Yuri knows of her, he wasn’t there that day in their third year, and Hilda’s closer to her than he is. He knows enough of her situation to not bother her about it.

Dorothea stays behind after their meeting is over to talk with Manuela about something, so Yuri goes back to the common room alone. He doesn’t make it very far when he hears two familiar voices down the hall.

“Do you think I did okay?” Marianne’s voice is shaking.

“As long as you did your best, then you did perfect.” Yuri peeks around the corner to see Ashe and Marianne slowly walking down the hall. “Remember, you don’t have to do this. You can drop the role at any time, and it’ll be fine.”

“Noーno. I have to do this. I want to do this.” Marianne’s hands are clenched into fists at her sides. Looking down at them, Ashe gently nudges one open to hold in his own. Her shoulders unwind.

“I’ll be here if you need any help,” Ashe reminds her, and Marianne nods. They keep walking. Yuri smiles to himself; looks like there’s nothing to worry about there.

Marianne has all the support she needs.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Halloween is usually a fun prospect at Hogwarts for the entertainment value that is students gallivanting in costumes like Muggles don’t act like their existence as wizards themselves is a costume. Halloween is a less fun prospect because Peeves always does something drastic to one of the classrooms and students have to hope that in his solo game of bingo he doesn’t aim for their classroom that year. Halloween is still more fun for the fond memory Yuri has of the time Sylvain and a few other students tried to communicate with ghosts via ouija board. In a school filled with ghosts. That they could communicate perfectly fine with.

This year’s Halloween has Yuri sitting outside the Great Hall at lunch with an assortment of baked goods organized on the table in front of him to be sold, organized by the humanities club, which used to be the only club he was involved in other than Quidditch until the drama club, the money they earn planning to be donated to St. Mungo’s. There are other things he could do to fill in the time considering it’s a Saturday, but it’s for a good cause.

It also helps that Ashe volunteered to be at the table in the same time slot as Yuri.

After another student leaves with a plateful of cupcakes for their friends and they’re left together in the empty hall, chattering just on the other side and Halloween music blasting nearby from speakers, Yuri fixes the crooked bunny ears on Ashe’s head with a small, fanged smile that Ashe returns. Claude waddles by in an inflatable dinosaur costume with a Slytherin tie around its neck, being helped forward by Hilda, who is doing more laughing than helping.

“How is it, sparrow?” Yuri asks as he watches them struggle into the Great Hall - really, they should’ve taken a page out of Sothis’ book and given Claude heelies. “Balancing school, Quidditch, and now the musical.”

“It’s fine,” Ashe says. He drops some sickles into the cash box and fetches two cookies with pumpkins drawn on top, offering one to Yuri. “I don’t have as much of a workload as the main cast since I’m only the understudy. I can handle it. How about you? Will your team be prepared once matches start?” There’s a challenge in Ashe’s eyes, but Yuri can’t take him seriously with his Alice-in-Wonderland White Rabbit getup and cookie crumbs littering his mouth. A part of Yuri wants to swipe the crumbs off with his thumb.

“I’m more worried about you,” he says, letting the fangs retract so he can bite into his own sugary cookie. “Last I heard, the Hufflepuff Seeker’s a real piece of work, always butting into problems he doesn’t need to involve himself in. Have you been handling him well? Last I heard, he involved himself in a musical for a friend’s sake, and now he rarely shows up to practice.”

“He shows up to practice,” Ashe says with a grin. “I heard he even plays in practice.”

“Huh. Seems like you have your team in order, then.” Yuri nudges his shoulder. Ashe nudges back, until the sound of a throat clearing has them both looking up.

Sylvain’s standing in front of them dressed as a hotdog. Caspar’s beside him in a hamburger costume. Linhardt’s standing a few feet away from them, but Yuri thinks it has less to do with how he doesn’t want to associate himself with them and more to do with the fact that his snorlax costume is large enough to take up half the hall space in width.

Yuri straightens out the collar of his vampire costume and sits up. Under the table, his pinky links with Ashe’s in a small, solid reminder. “Yes?”

“We wanted to buy the cupcakes,” Caspar says.

“And how will you be paying?”

“With deez knuts,” Sylvain says.

Caspar goes “Aayyyyyy” and tries to chest-bump Sylvain, which fails miserably due to their costumes. Linhardt looks too dead inside to even react to the lame and outdated joke, which could be considered a reaction in and of itself. Yuri’s eye twitches.

“Sometimes,” Yuri says grimly as they leave after paying, “I really understand why Felix is out to get his ass.”

Quietly, Ashe says, “In the killing way, orー?”

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The two teams were gathered beneath the waiting crowd and stormy sky. The captains shook hands, grips tight. The anticipation only built until they lifted off at the whistle into the cold air.

If Yuri’s hair hadn’t been tied back it would’ve whipped into his face by the wind. He circled the pitch as he tuned out Flayn’s commentary and the cheering crowd, an eye on the two warring teams and the elusive Golden Snitch as he slid in to stop beside Ashe.

“Fancy seeing you here, sparrow. I’ve been meaning to ask, but did you get the homework Professor Jeralt gave us yesterday? I wasn’t listening.”

Ashe’s eyes roamed the pitch as he said, “If you’re trying to distract me, Yuri, it’s not going to work.”

Yuri made a show of pouting and flitting in front of Ashe’s view, forcing him to move. “That’s such a shame. And here I was thinking we could have a conversation between friends. We’re friends, aren’t we, sparrow? We’ve known each other for what, three years?”

“Going on five now.”

“You’ve been keeping count, how sweet of you,” Yuri purred, and though Ashe didn’t look at him, his mouth twitched subtly.

Yuri let him go, then, to survey the match himself. Ashe was a different kind of person during a game, dedicated to his team and winningーhe wouldn’t let Yuri get in the way of it. That’s just fine for Yuri; he’s the same.

That didn’t stop Yuri from trying.

“Have you ever thought of doing this after Hogwarts?”

“What, Quidditch?”

Yuri hummed, watching Claude weaving out of a pair of bludgers aimed at him. “Going pro after graduation.”

“I’ve never thought of it. Have you?”

Considering it was Yuri’s only option: “Yes.” He was hoping to get scouted while at Hogwarts, but if that didn’t work there were always other routes to get where he wanted to be.

With Ashe watching the pitch, it left Yuri free to stare at him with the honesty he always hid. “I haven’t thought about what I wanted to do after I graduated yet. Is that weird?”

“No,” Yuri said. “I think people who have their whole future planned out are the weird ones.”

“Aren’t you one of those people?”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t one of the weird ones.” Unbidden, one of the weird Muggle shows Hilda quoted often that she watched for its infamously bad lines popped up in his head. _Have you ever seen me without this stupid hat on? ー_or, something of the sort.

“At least you’re prepared,” Ashe said. “But, if you’re planning on going proー” Ashe disappeared. Yuri searched desperately to find him on the other side of the pitch, a small, golden ball fluttering in his grasp.

When they landed, Ashe offered him a handshake, a sweet smile, and “Maybe focus on catching the Snitch first so you can impress future scouts.”

Yuri grinned, took the loss for what it was, and returned the handshake, even as the sight of Ashe’s smile sent his heart tripping into a new heartbeat.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


My sweet mockingbird,

Congratulations on being cast for one of the leading roles! I’m proud of you; your hard work clearly paid off. I hope you have fun working with the club.

It’s been colder recently with autumn. I’ve had to close the windows and start bundling myself in scarves and sweaters throughout the day. Nonetheless, it’s almost perfect weather for hot chocolate, but since it’s still autumn I put a smidge of cinnamon into my usual brew.

We had a Halloween potluck this year at Amethyst’s apartment which was lovely, she always manages to toss out all the fancy decorations for celebrations like these. Costumes were required, so I dressed myself as a honeybee. I’m sorry if my letter arrives a bit later than usual; I packed some leftover desserts from the potluck for you and your friends, so Eriol may be struggling with the heavier-than-usual package. Would you mind giving him a treat once he arrives?

I was delightfully surprised when Aldrin turned up for the potluck, since I hadn’t been able to see him since his move-in. He keeps to himself, and the only times I’ve caught him out are during grocery runs. I wonder if he has any friends his age.

I haven’t met the ghost yet either. I caught a glimpse of them down the hall, but they vanished around the corner when I followed them. But there haven’t been any strange occurrences in the apartment, and no one has reported anything, so I doubt they’re here to cause us or Aldrin any trouble.

Have you been sleeping well? I’d added some more tea leaves into the package if you need help sleeping. Please give Eriol some extra treats for the heavy duty tasks he’s been carrying out. I'm sure he'd appreciate it!

  
  
  


With all my heart,

Mama Mockingbird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ashe’s boggart are his siblings dead.
> 
> I debated writing a hmc au for this ship but ik there’s at Least two ppl writing that, so I decided to compromise. Ofc, I have no knowledge on how musicals and the whole process works so :)) I apologize in advance for everything
> 
> Imo you can sort a character into any house as long as you have a reasonable explanation behind it (for ex. Draco Malfoy as a Gryffindor or Yaoyorozu from bnha as a Slytherin). My sorting for the fe3h characters generally went two ways: 1) does this benefit the character/lend itself to character growth later, or 2) does this house have smth the character values? There were exceptions ofc (notably Sothis, who should've gone to Slytherin) but there will always be exceptions like that
> 
> I can still remember a few years back when the pjo fandom was up in arms about which house Percy would be in. I’m not in the fandom but personally, just by looking at book one alone and knowing that his fatal flaw is loyalty.....that’s some Hufflepuff shit. That’s a Hufflepuff boi. Dam Percy, why can’t you be like the rest of us and have hubris as your fatal flaw


	4. i’m gonna do what’s called a pro-gamer move :3c - Ravenclaw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t believe I’m working with a full cast yet there Still aren’t enough characters so I had to reconfigure some of my ocs for this. Do y'all see this bullshit, god?
> 
> Side note: Ashe’s siblings are Allen and Eleana
> 
> Warning for violence and a panic attack

Having to practice for the musical forces Yuri to visit the theatre more often on afternoons when they start practicing the dances and such. Even after practice is over he decides to stay, if only because watching the stage crew take over the stage and discuss amongst themselves is entertaining. Today the tech club and art club are here, since their help is enlisted every year to help with the backdrops and set design of any plays.

“I don’t care if the poster says we’re following the novel version for the musical or whatever the fuck,” is what Quinn, a Ravenclaw seventh year and president of the tech club, is in the middle of saying, pacing the stage while Ignatz sits cross legged at her feet. “Howl’s castle is just a _castle_ in that one. It’s a square building. That moves.”

Ignatz says uncertainly, “Yes, that’s right,” like he can possibly be wrong while stating facts.

“Well, I don’t wanna make that version for the stage. It’s bland. It’s _boring._ It doesn’t make weird creaky noises or look like a mechanical eldritch horror. Does the _novel_ have the steampunk version of Baba Yaga’s hut? No, it doesn’t have the iconic chicken leg egg house. If I wanna build the chicken leg egg house _then I will_.”

“As a fellow Ravenclaw and vice president of the tech club I am obligated to apologize,” Alexander says flatly, not sparing a glance to look up at the two from his homework in the audience seats. “But just know that I don’t care about the outcome of this anymore because I was with her at 3am when she was planning the construction of the life size version of Baba Yaga hut 2.0 for the musical and I’m very tired of hearing her talk about it.” His face manages to say _she’s all yours_ and _I don’t give a shit_ at the same time. Yuri is quietly impressed.

“Do they do that every year?” he asks Dorothea in amusement from the side of the stage.

“Oh, yeah. Quinn’s an enthusiast dedicated to her craft. She just needs to get it out of her system.”

It’s when Quinn unveils her twenty-foot long poster-size notes for the castle that Yuri decides to leave with Dorothea to explore backstage. Only a few lights are on near the front. There’s some material leftover from previous performances, but Dorothea tells him that costumes are kept further back, which explains why it’s mostly spotless.

“We had to clean it up recently in preparation,” she says.

“What’s that, then?” He points to the lone wardrobe in the corner. It rattles ominously as they near it.

Dorothea frowns. “We had that locked up, but it looks like the lock’s gone. That’s strange...one of the professors is supposed to come over later to clear out the boggart that holed up there in the summer.”

The closet’s rattling turns frantic, rocking from side to side. Tense, Yuri slips in front of Dorothea and takes out his wand. “Did you say the lock is gone?”

“Yeah. Maybe it’s been cleared out already? I don’t know.”

It wouldn’t be rattling like that if it wasn’t inside. There was something in there, at least. “Go and call Professor Manuela.”

Dorothea leaves Yuri alone as he stands, waiting for any change. The door bursts open, a black-robed figure tumbling gracelessly to the ground.

“Sparrow?” Yuri bends down at Ashe’s level. “What were you doing in that closet?”

Ashe chuckles nervously, running a hand through his hair. “I, uhーit was an accident.”

Yuri frowns. Checking that they’re still alone, he helps him up, his hands lingering as he fixes Ashe’s robes. “No one locked you in there, did they?”

“Erーno. I just thought it would be interesting.”

“What?”

Ashe smiles. “The dark. It’s comforting sometimes.”

Yuri tilts his head at his words, but he shrugs. “Sometimes I forget how similar we are,” he remarks as he peers into the wardrobe, tracing the deep marks gouged into the closet by sharp nails. There’s no blood to be found inside the closet or on Ashe’s hands. Something feels wrong. “Dorothea said there was a boggart in here, but since you were in there, I take it they must have cleared it out already. Anyway, what were you doing back here? Practice is over.”

“Yuri!” Dorothea appears on the other side of the room, Manuela close behind her. Her eyes widen at the sight of them, wand out. “Don’tー”

Yuri understands immediately, a current of dark fear flashing through him, understanding and also the thought of _I knew that was bullshit from the start._

He can’t think of the spell fast enough. His instincts take over as he flips out his knife from the other sleeve as the boggart descends on him, twisting Ashe’s face into something unrecognizable Yuri would never find on the real Ashe. his knife pierces cloth and skin easily, going through Asheーthe boggart’s chest with a sickening _thunk._

The boggart flinches and makes a choking noise. Yuri uses the chance to push it back by his knife handle, sending it stumbling back as he staggers away from it. Dorothea shields him, arms wrapped around him and obscuring his vision as Manuela steps forward.

Yuri hears the inhuman snarl and forces himself to look at the ground. The boggart transforms into something else, something that isn’t Ashe, until Manuela casts _Riddikulus,_ and it falls silent except for Yuri’s ragged breathing.

“Yuri. Yurikins. Are you okay?” Dorothea’s hands come up to both sides of Yuri’s face, narrowing his view to her pale face. “Are you okay?”

Over her shoulder, Manuela picks up Yuri’s knife. There’s nothing else there, not even a wisp of the boggart.

Yuri exhales, long and steady. He shouldn't have showed it his back in the first place. Still, he didn't expect it to attack so quickly, and he didn't want to leave it alone while trying to find Dorothea. “Yeah. I’m fine.” He stands up with some help from Dorothea and rolls his shoulders back _because he’s not supposed to show weakness,_ taking the knife back from Manuela. He flips it in his hand, the familiar weight and feel of the handle comforting him as his stomach rolls. “I just wasn’t expecting that.”

Dorothea stares at him, a question in her eyes like she’s trying to piece something together about Yuri.

She won’t find anything. Yuri’s been hiding too long for that to happen.

“That’ll be the hospital wing for you, Yuri,” Manuela says. “Come with me.”

“I’m fine,” Yuri brushes her off. “I have Quidditch practice.”

Manuela sighs through her nose. “You should take a page out of Hilda’s book. I still need to check on you even if you’re not wounded, so you really will be going to the hospital wing, or it’ll be five points from Slytherin.”

“Besides,” Dorothea interjects, “you don’t even have a Quidditch match this week.”

“I still have to practice.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll make sure to speed up the check-up so you’ll only be late,” Manuela waves her hand. “Come along. What I wouldn’t give for a drink right now...”

Dorothea doesn’t follow them to the hospital wing. Yuri thinks at first it’s to give him some privacy, but of course it isn’t that easy, as Ashe cautiously steps into the hospital wing as Yuri’s forcing down an energy bar Manuela instructed him to eat before she left to return to the theatre, confident that he can take care of himself by that point. He eyes Yuri for a second before moving to sit beside him on the hospital bed, a deliberate amount of distance between them.

“Dorothea came to the common room to tell me you had to go to the hospital wing for something,” he says. “Are you okay?”

Yuri sighs. He should have expected that she wouldn’t explain anything either. Leave it to him, of course, why the fuck not. “I had an encounter with a boggart today.”

“Oh. Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

Yuri wants to say no. A part of him insists that he can handle this alone, but...that’s not how he and Ashe work.

He closes the distance between them by resting his head on Ashe’s shoulder. Ashe shifts closer naturally so they’re pressed together on one side, his arm coming up around Yuri’s shoulder, and Yuri considers it a smaller mercy that the hospital wing is empty for them to do this.

“The boggart turned into you,” Yuri mumbles.

“...I’m sorry,” Ashe offers.

“What’s there to apologize for?”

“IーI don’t know. I’m sorry you had to see me dead, even if that’s not true in reality.”

“Iーwhat? No. You were alive.”

“...Oh,” Ashe realizes. “You couldn’t tell the difference, could you?”

"I could, actually. It was hiding in a _closet_."

Ashe makes a noise of understanding and chuckles. Yuri looks up at him. "How are you not mad?"

"I'm just glad you're okay."

"Only because Dorothea and Professor Manuela arrived in time. I guess I've become too naive and trusting recently.”

He should’ve acted as soon as that boggart fell out of that closet and tried to make excuses like Ashe would ever be there in the first place. After all, Ashe is claustrophobic.

Ashe hums. “I don’t know. I like that.”

“What?”

“That you allow yourself to trust people. I like that. Besides, it’s not your fault,” he says. “You weren’t expecting that.”

“I should’ve been.” Yuri looks down to Ashe’s hand, curled around nothing, and straightens out the crumpled wrapper of the energy bar with his own hands.

“Isn’t it tiring, being on guard all the time? I don’t care what you think about this,” Ashe says, “because I’ll be here whenever you need to let down your walls, until you can learn to trust people again, at your own pace.”

The thing about Ashe is that he’s just too _nice._

Yuri sighs and takes Ashe’s hand, sees how well their fingers slot together, how right it feels, like regaining a piece of himself. “You spoil me, sparrow.”

“You deserve it.”

Yuri groans in embarrassment. Ashe moves his hand away from his face, grinning at what is no doubt the tomato-red Yuri’s face has become, with how warm he feels. Yuri buries his face into Ashe’s neck, feels Ashe giggle against him before he quiets, the both of them breathing quietly in sync.

“There’s one thing I’m wondering about, though,” Ashe says hesitantly. “I don’t understand why the boggart would turn into me.”

“It’s not really you, but more what you represent for me,” Yuri says. He’s glad Ashe asked, if only because he was probably stewing to ask internally the whole time.

Yuri still isn’t entirely used to opening up with Ashe. It’s a difficult thing for someone who’s used to hiding behind a false face - sometimes literally. Yuri’s walls are sometimes so tightly woven that they become armour, a second skin that feels almost impossible to peel off.

If Yuri has armour, then Ashe is the dagger, carefully peeling back the second layer of skin Yuri lives in. He doesn’t even know he’s doing it most of the time. How aggravating.

“I’m not used to it yet,” Yuri says. “Not being used for anything, not having anything asked of me.” Ashe’s kindness is not something Yuri takes for granted. He will take and take and take, until Ashe realizes his worth and leaves.

“Okay,” Ashe says. He doesn’t say anything else to that - what else is there to say? - and the two remain in that position until Yuri feels time tug on his axis again.

He pulls himself away, glancing at the clock hanging on the wall on top of the entrance to the hospital wing. “I have Quidditch practice.”

“Oh, you should probably get to that.” The two get up from the bed. Yuri tosses the energy bar wrapper in the trash while Ashe tugs down on the end of the covers of the bed, trying to fix it even though Yuri hadn’t lain down in it. “Will you be alright?”

“Yeah.” Yuri takes Ashe’s hand one last time to press a kiss along his knuckles, lips curling at the flush that paints Ashe’s face. “I’ll see you tomorrow, sparrow.”

Claude teases and questions him for arriving to practice thirty minutes late and missing warmup, but Yuri can’t find it in himself to regret spending time with Ashe.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The two were practicing charms in an empty classroom they had permission to borrow in the eveningーor, Yuri was. Ashe had long abandoned him in favour of draining his cup of tea.

As Yuri flicked his wand, Ashe, sitting in a chair and looking into his cup intently, said, “We should probably leave after this.”

Yuri glanced at the time. “We’ve stayed out past curfew before.” More than several times, in fact, whether it had been by accidentally losing track of time or deliberately for some reason or other like Yuri trying to cram a whole chapter’s worth of information in one night or Ashe trying to finish an essay. Even as sixth years, these habits hadn’t changed.

Ashe nodded in agreement. “Yeah, but not in these circumstances.”

“Do you mean the Halloween incident?” Ashe nodded again. Yuri sighed, abandoning his charmwork and sat to face him on the desk. “It’s not like any students were petrified, just a cat.”

“Still,” Ashe insisted. “It just feels like something bad is happening.” He swirled the tea leaves in his cup, now drained of liquid.

“What, did you predict the future with those tea leaves? You don’t think that’s real, right?” Yuri leaned over to peer into the cup. Their foreheads almost bumped with their closeness; Yuri could count the freckles on Ashe’s face from there, the green of his eyes glimmering by the _Lumos_ of Ashe’s wand.

“I just think they’re neat,” Ashe defended himself without any heat in his words; they’ve had this conversation too many times, knew the insides and out like clothes long wrinkled and colour faded after being worn so often, and right now they were just recycling the same points on rote like actors reciting a script they’d long tired of.

Yuri exhaled a “Yeah, whatever,” ruffling the strands of hair covering Ashe’s forehead. He, too, was tired of having this conversation. Yuri didn’t think fate was something that could be predicted, but something people choose for themselves, which was why he never took Divination like Ashe.

He moved away and started packing up his belongings.

“What are you doing?”

“You want to make it back to your common room before curfew, don’t you?” Yuri said. “Let’s go, sparrow. I’ll drop you off first.” Ashe’s friends would have his head if Yuri didn’t offer that much, at least, and he wanted to stay with him a little longer.

And despite his misgivings, Yuri thought as Ashe began to pack up as well, it might do to take precautions. Hogwarts had always been unpredictable, and no one was sure what to expect after that cat incident.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


**Ashe:** are you going to the match?

**Yuri:** wouldnt miss it for the world. no way i’d miss a chance to see our competition

**Ashe:** even if it means waking up early?

**Yuri:** ill be forced out of bed by claude anyway, since he’ll want to watch. see you there, sparrow

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


That doesn’t mean Yuri doesn’t regret waking up early. It’s cold when he gets dragged out of bed, it’s cold when he puts on his robes, it’s cold outside until Claude takes pity on the whole group and casts a warming charm on everyone. “There. Happy now?”

“I’m never happy,” is Lysithea’s typical flat reply. Yuri doesn’t understand why she bothers attending Quidditch matches when she spends most of it complaining or not watching, but she’s here, and he can live with that.

It’s the first Quidditch match of the year, which means the biggest turnout. With how filled the seats are, it seems like the whole school’s arrived to watch the match, though Yuri knows that isn’t the case - there are plenty of students uninterested, busy, or sleeping in at this time. The students chatting around them, the handmade banners and the familiar colours is something Yuri likes returning to the most in Hogwarts every year.

To the cheers of the crowd, the two Quidditch teams enter the field - Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. At the whistle, the players shoot off into the air, the Quaffle is thrown, and the game begins.

“What do you say?” Claude says to Yuri as the Ravenclaws gain possession of the Quaffle and immediately enter into a V-formation with the player in possession behind the player at the head of the formation. A Bludger from one of the Hufflepuff’s beaters, Jeritza, has them scattering, free for Hufflepuff’s chasers to descend on the lone Ravenclaw with the Quaffle.

“Ravenclaws have always had special techniques and formations for dealing with different opponents. What matters is how Hufflepuff will hold up to them,” Yuri says. “Hufflepuff is centred around teamwork, so for them it’ll depend on how well they can work together.”

“And how fast they can get the Snitch.”

“That’s just how every match goes,” Yuri says, considering the Snitch was worth 150 points. His eyes find Ashe, who is, as always with Quidditch matches, doing clinical tours around the pitch. When he nears Yuri’s side, Yuri raises a hand, but Ashe doesn’t even look in his direction, focused on finding the Snitch.

Yuri frowns and drops his hand. Vindicated, he _softly_ digs his heel into Claude’s foot until he stops snickering at his lacking response from Ashe. What kind of stunt would Yuri need to pull to get Ashe’s attention?

“Hufflepuff will probably win,” he concludes as Hufflepuff’s vice captain and chaser, Byleth, manages to break away from the two Ravenclaws chasing him with the help of a Bludger and throws the Quaffle into Ravenclaw’s hoop, the keeper too slow to stop it.

Claude raises a brow. Around them, the crowd explodes into cheers. “Oh? Is that favouritism, or do you have a different reason?”

A bit of both is Yuri’s internal reasons, but he drawls, “Do you really think they’d lose with that monster captaining the team this year?”

On the pitch, a small figure streaks up to cuff Byleth around the head.

Claude hums. “Ah, right, the Demon Duo. I see your point.”

Byleth’s already a force of his own on the pitch, but so is Sothis, and the two of them combined are a formidable pair. Yuri knows from Byleth himself that the two have been playing Quidditch together since they were five or so, and it shows in their wordless teamwork; it’s almost like they can read each other’s minds, though Yuri also knows Byleth doesn’t know Legilimens.

And Yuri’s right; the two serve as unmanageable distractions for the Ravenclaw team by looping around and about and breaking up formations easily as a duo while signalling to their team, leaving their last chaser, Ingrid, free to grab the Quaffle and make goals. The Ravenclaw team tries to strengthen their formations, but Hufflepuff’s teamwork remains airtight.

Flayn announces the final score amongst the cheers of the crowd as Ashe swipes the Snitch from beneath the Ravenclaw goalposts: 190 - 50.

Claude whistles lowly. “Well, that’ll be something to look forward to in the coming matches. Can’t say I don’t love a challenge, but I also wouldn’t complain if all of the main players happened to fall ill the day of our match.”

“You wouldn’t poison them.”

“Is that a challenge?” Claude laughs.

Yuri rolls his eyes. “As long as they can’t pin the blame on you or any other Slytherin, I won’t complain.” It’s not a bad plan, either; if the whole Hufflepuff team were out of commission, they wouldn’t have to postpone the match since they would still have their reserve players. And they stand a better chance against them.

Lysithea, overhearing this, glares. “I hope this is a joke.”

“Now, now, Lysithea, since when did I ever jest?” Claude swings an arm around her shoulders. “Just you wait, I’ll have something cooking for the Hufflepuff team in no time.”

Lysithea squirms out of his grasp, reminding Yuri of a worm in the dirt. “This is why no one trusts Slytherins with you two enforcing stereotypes.”

“Aw, I don’t think we’re that bad. We could be much more brutish if you want,” Yuri offers. “How about tricking them into falling into a pit trap and locking them in there until the match is over? With no food, light, or cell service...the hospital bed is much better, don’t you think?”

“You’re a terrible example as Head Boy,” Lysithea mutters to Claude. She leaves with loud stomping so they can hear her anger tremble across the floorboard. Yuri is _oh so very_ scared, he’s trembling in his boots. He’s so scared, in fact, that he grins at Claude and says, “Did you have any ideas on which poison you wanted them to drink?”

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Yuri’s in the Room of Requirement again that night, with practice time doubling as his usual meeting time with Ashe. Ashe enters to see Yuri slouched over in a large, pillowed armchair, reminiscent of the lusciously green one back at the Slytherin common room he lounges in as often as he does work in it, whenever he manages to snag it.

Yuri flicks at the papers on the low table with his foot and throws a peanut at Ashe as he nears him, dropping his messenger bag beside the table.

Ashe crooks a brow in confusion. “Yes?”

“No.” Yuri throws another peanut at Ashe that he doesn’t bother to dodge because he’s polite, just lets it bounce off his chest to the ground. “I can’t believe you ignored me today.”

“Ohー” Ashe’s brows pinch in worry as he rushes to sit beside Yuri. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realizeー”

“Save your excuses,” Yuri says. He nudges Ashe with his shoulder and smiles. “I was joking, sparrow. I know you don’t have time to look at the crowd during a match. I don’t think I look at the crowd myself if we’re being fair, and I doubt I’d be able to find you unless your hair was rainbow.”

“Oh.” Ashe deflates against Yuri’s side, sticking from shoulder to ankle. “I didn’t mean to ignore you, if you tried to get my attention.”

“I know.” Yuri crosses their ankles together. “Everything other than the pitch kind of just blurs together during a match, doesn’t it?” Ashe murmurs and nods an agreement. Yuri feeds him a peanut. “Congratulations on your first win, by the way.” Yuri grins and taunts, “Shame it’ll be useless when we top you in points in our match.”

Ashe considers this as Yuri feeds him another peanut lightly licking the salt off Yuri’s finger as he does. Yuri deliberately does not choke at this action. He does not stare, he doesn’t gulp or look away, he justーis there.

“Good luck with that,” Ashe says finally after Yuri’s spent ten years staring at Ashe’s lips, “Gryffindor is going to be ruthless this year with Edelgard and Dimitri leading the team.”

“It wouldn’t be a match if it wasn’t any fun.”

“Are you going to have fun when you’re going to be inevitably run into the ground by their team?”

Yuri chuckles. “That’s harsh, sparrow.” He wraps an arm around Ashe’s shoulders. “I would’ve thought you had more faith in Slytherin this year.”

“Lysithea told Annette Claude might try to poison their drinks or you might try to lock them in a cellar.”

“It was a joke, obviously.”

“Really?”

“If I wanted to lock you in a cellar, you would’ve been in a cellar by now.” Yuri sighs. “Unfortunately, you’d be miserable in the cellar and everyone would try to kill me if I did that. Peanut?” Ashe dutifully accepts another peanut. “If I could lock you away, I could.” He can feel Ashe’s eyes on him as he digs into the bag of peanuts. “Keep you safe, away from anyone who can harm you.” He drops his head onto Ashe’s shoulder, imagines staying there for an eternity. They’d make a statue of them, locked together in this moment, safe.

But that’s not how the world works.

“But birds aren’t meant to be kept in cages,” Yuri says.

“I know,” Ashe says softly. His hands comes up to curl a strand of hair behind Yuri’s ear. “I understand how you feel.” Yuri hears the way Ashe clears his throat, struggles to find his voice. “I felt that too, once. Still do, sometimes.”

Yuri knows that, too. Yuri would die for Ashe if needed, and Ashe would die for Yuri for reasons Yuri doesn’t entirely understand, but that is not what either of them asked each other.

What they asked of each other, an unasked question more woven into their daily lives, is whether they would live. They have been forged out of darker, bleaker circumstances: don’t they deserve light?

Yuri doesn’t know if he deserves it, deserves anything, but Ashe says he does, and Ashe would never lie to him.

Ashe silently feeds him a peanut. Yuri eyes the ceiling, focuses on Ashe’s calm breathing, and resolves himself to stillness a few minutes more without any thoughts of his responsibilities or the future.

Until the world calls them again.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Alchemy is the class Yuri secretly dreads with all his soul because not only does it take place in the morning for some sessions, it’s also the noisiest class by far because of how it crams all the students from all four houses into a single class.

In a simple word, it’s pandemonium.

They’re doing group work, desks formed into groups, except the work is getting done much in the same way a child would be forced to fold laundry: haphazardly, without a sense of order or respect to the clothing and leaving creasing in places where there shouldn’t be creases.

Yuri feels like the clothing that’s being disrespected when Sylvain, who’s been staring at Yuri head-on for far too long and has him feeling more uncomfortable than flattered at this point finally sighs out unprompted, “Man, you’re lucky. You could turn into whatever you want as a metamorphmagus. A vampire. Me. Hatsune Miku.”

“He could even turn into a better version of you,” says Linhardt, who was forced awake by Edelgard several minutes ago and looks more snappish than willing to work, but Yuri can’t blame him.

“That’s impossibleーI’m perfect.”

Yuri’s willing to bet there’s at least four other people who can prove otherwise, three of them being Sylvain’s childhood friends. He tilts his head. “I understand why maybe _Ferdinand_ would suggest I transform into a vampire, but why would you say that?”

Ferdinand, sitting close enough to their group to hear them, jolts. “I beg your pardon?”

“Well, you’re obviously into vampire, or at the very least the aesthetic of vampires, soー”

“What could possibly give you that idea?”

Yuri raises a brow at his voice crack and says, “Hubert.”

The reaction is instantaneous. Yuri can’t say he’s impressed with the way Ferdinand’s mouth drops, freezes and flusters, then insists, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Yuri exchanges a look with Linhardt, who only stares back at him long-sufferingly. Oh. Okay. So this has been going on for a while, then.

Hilda, bless her penchant for poking at romantic problems with all the excitement of a child without parental supervision about to feast on candy - AKA any eleven-year-old after boarding the Hogwarts Express - says, “You know, you two have this really weird love-hate relationship that’s been getting reallllyy awkward to see lately.”

“Iー” Ferdinand coughs and composes himself. He has a weird facial journey where he seems to be debating with himself what to say to properly convey his feelings about Hubert. Yuri is entertained enough to see the thought process Ferdinand seems to be going through to finally say, “He is a fiend who drinks coffee.”

Hilda frowns. “I’m pretty sure most of our grade has had coffee by this point. Exams aren’t exactly a fun time. Or school, in general.”

“Yes, but he somehow enjoys the drab, bitter taste.”

“Not everyone can have your aristocratic taste,” Yuri says.

Hilda hums. “What’s there about Hubert to like, anyway? He doesn’t even have eyebrows.”

“Cheekbone game strong though,” Slyvain interjects.

“I think that’s quite enough,” Ferdinand blusters.

“Yes,” a voice says behind Sylvain. “I think that’s enough too, don’t you think?” Catherine smiles menacingly, arms crossed and showing the flex in her muscles. “Now do I need to start docking points, or are you all going to get back to work?”

As she walks away, satisfied at the sight of them all bending their heads over their textbooks, Sylvain turns around, sweating. “I think I just got turned on.”

Scandalized, Ferdinand whispers furiously, “Sylvain, she’s our professor, and must I remind you she is _married_ ー”

“Alright, that’s it. Ten points from Gryffindor.”

Yuri smirks and bends down, returning to his work.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


**NOTICE BOARD: Miscellaneous Questions**

Why is there a raven in the owlery? - First-year Ravenclaw

\- Hubert’s a goth so he brought a raven instead of an owl like a typical Hogwarts student. - Dorothea

\- Is the raven also supposed to say ‘Nevermore’ or am I just hearing things? - Concerned first-year Gryffindor

> Yeahh, you _might_ wanna get that checked out with Professor Manuela. - Hilda

\- ....so you _can_ bring pets that aren’t listed in the Hogwarts acceptance letter? - First-year Slytherin

> Yes, but make sure they’re small and don’t cause too much noise. No one wants to see an alligator, and having one in the lake probably wouldn’t please the merpeople. Think small, like bats or gerbils. - Ignatz

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Lunchtime finds Yuri with Dorothea in the Room of Requirement with no expectations of Ashe arriving this time, since they’re practicing for the musical.

They’re taking a water break when Dorothea sits down beside Yuri and starts off with, “I know this isn’t my place to ask, but are you okay?”

“Might have to elaborate on that.”

“I guess I’m just a little confused with you dating Ashe, but also having him as your boggart at the same time.”

He supposes he does owe her an explanation since she was there to see the boggart.

“He sees too much. He sees me,” Yuri says simply, as it is both the simplest and most difficult thing about Yuri - seeing him.

In a world with castles with minds of its own and talking hats, Yuri’s ability as a metamorphmagus is a rare ability. There are some people who will only ever see him as that, and it’s not entirely a disadvantage, but knowing there’s someone there who holds no expectations for Yuri is a soothing balm, like a rest stop in a journey.

But it’s such a scary thing, baring yourself to someone and waiting to see when they’ll walk away and leave. It’s the reason why Yuri’s dating Ashe and has him as a boggart. He’s seen too much of Yuri that at this point Yuri won’t know what’ll happen to him when Ashe leaves him.

Ashe hasn’t left yet.

“I...can’t say I understand, but I trust both of you to have at least talked it out,” Dorothea says. “You did talk it out, didn’t you?”

Yuri manages to resist rolling his eyes. “We do in fact communicate, yes.”

“Alright, great. Another thing I’ve been wondering aboutー” Yuri holds back a sigh. “ーis why you two are hiding your relationship. It’s not like any of your friends would be against it, and Ashe is sweet.”

This time, Yuri doesn’t bother holding back and rolls his eyes, leaning back on his palms. “Dorothea, when’s the last time you saw an interhouse couple?”

“Well, Byleth and Linhardtー”

“Let me rephrase that: when’s the last time you saw an interhouse couple among the Quidditch teams?”

Dorothea lifts a brow, unimpressed. “Really. You’re doing this because of your Quidditch teams?”

“Hey, my future career depends on it. And considering your own situation, you can’t say anything about it.”

“ _My_ situation?”

“You know, with Petra.”

Dorothea draws back quickly, face hardening. “What about it?”

Yuri stares back at her, unimpressed. “She would be interested, if you asked. And I know you like her. So why haven’t you said anything?”

It’s a sight to see, Dorothea’s face closing off to him as she shutters herself away. “You wouldn’t understand. You’re not aー”

“Pureblood?” Yuri grins. “I still know a thing or two. And I know you, so I’ll take a guess: since your family’s lineage is in decline recently, they want you to find a pureblood suitor to marry. Since it’s about passing on the ‘pureblood heritage’ or whatever they call that shit, you need to marry a man, have children, and then you’ll be set for life. And that’s why you haven’t asked Petra out yet. Am I right?”

Not looking at Yuri anymore, like she can’t stand the sight of him, Dorothea says in a quiet but firm tone, “It’s none of your business.”

“Exactly. It’s none of my business. The same way my relationship is none of your business. Got it?”

“...Fine,” Dorothea says. “I won’t ask you about it again, since you’re being so secretive about it. Fair’s fair.”

“Good. Now, what did you want me to do?” Yuri shakes the script out.

Dorothea runs a hand through her hair with a sigh and stands. “Let’s run through that scene again.”

“Was my acting not good enough, orー”

“Oh, it’s not that.” Dorothea grins. “I just want to see you acting like drunk Howl again.”

Merlin, the things Yuri does to humour this girl. He’d appreciate it if lunch could end sooner.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


They’d been caught a fair few times outside past curfew, back when they were still learning which halls professors patrolled and which classrooms where left unchecked. Now that they were sixth years, Yuri thought that they would know the professors’ schedules by rote, but the telltales sounds of footsteps echoing down the hall still proved them wrong.

Ashe was quick to start packing, but it wasn’t quite fast enough with how much closer the footsteps sounded; Yuri waved his wand and sent their books into a desk. With the only thing left to hide being themselves, he pulled Ashe along with him into the closet at the back of the classroom and closed it behind them.

Yuri got used to the darkness and the thin cracks of light from the cracks in the closet as Ashe shifted beneath him into a more comfortable position.

The door to the classroom opened, and both boys stiffened. Yuri kept his breathing light and ignored the nervous sweat pooling into his palms, pressed against the wall of the closet by Ashe’s shoulders. This wasn’t unfamiliar, the sneaking around at night and hiding in darkness, but he wasn’t used to how close and still Ashe had become, how practiced it seemed, and Yuri didn’t know until then how stillness could be practiced until he couldn’t feel Ashe breathing beneath him.

Ashe wasn’t breathing.

Ashe wasn’tーhuh?

It took longer for Yuri to realize Ashe was shaking, quivers that rattled his knees and shoulders, hand covering his mouth.

Shifting inside the classroom. Yuri chanced a peek between the sliver of space and grimaced at the back of the figure he saw with recognizable green hair; Seteth. If they got caught here, they would probably be stuck in detention for a whole _month._

Quietly, Yuri took out his wand and slowly, silently cast _Muffliato_ over them. He felt the spell fall over them like cotton in his ears, and he touched Ashe’s shoulders, the heat radiating off him feeling almost fevered. His hands were clammy.

“Ashe?”

Ashe shook his head, face hidden in the darkness, but Yuri could still see the outline of him shaking. “You can breathe. I cast _Muffliato_.”

The door outside clicked closed. Yuri checked again to hear footsteps travelling further down the hall and disappear entirely before Ashe burst out of the closet.

Ashe had a panic attack right there, gasping in shivers, curled up on the ground.

Yuri didn’t know what to do. He stayed nearby, in sight of Ashe, watching. He was pretty sure this was a panic attack. There were probablyー _breathing exercises._ Yuri fumbled for his wand, _Accio_ ’d his phone and started searching.

Yuri kept his voice steady as he edged closer. “Do you want me to do anything?”

Ashe gave no sign at first of hearing, but then he jerked his headー _no._

“Okay.” Yuri bit his lip. “Do you want me to count for you? For breathing.”

Another jerk of his headー _es._

“Okay.” Yuri counted slowly, watching Ashe struggle through the first few inhales, and exhales. He kept counting, even as Ashe seemed to calm down, shivering less. He kept counting, until Ashe stilled, until Ashe stirred, touching him with cold hands.

“Sorry.” Ashe’s face was as pale as the moon out the window. “I’m fine now. Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. Are you okay?”

“Yesー”

“Don’t lie.”

Ashe shivered when he inhaled, like the breath was still getting caught in between. “I’m fine. I justーI’m claustrophobic. Small spaces, enclosed places. Boxes and elevators, I don’t like them.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Don’t apologize. I didn’t think we would have to do that.”

Ashe’s hands still felt clammy. Yuri held them in his and rubbed them lightly. “Maybe...we shouldn’t do this again.”

“I like studying with you.”

“We can still study together at a more reasonable hour.”

“WeーI’ll be fine as long as we find a classroom that’s easier to hide in than this one.”

Yuri stared at Ashe, wondering what he was thinking, why he was so insistent on this. This was something he would stand his ground on, a stubborn set to his lips that made Yuri sigh.

“Fine. But we’re gonna find a classroom where we can hide under the desks instead.”

“Thank you.”

Yuri shook his head, helping Ashe up. “Don’t be. I like spending time with you as much as anyone else does, sparrow.”

“Can we study a little longer?” Ashe asked, voice hopeful.

It was hard to say no to him when he looked at Yuri like that.

Neither of them mention how long it took for Yuri to convince himself to let go of Ashe’s hand.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


One of Yuri and Anna’s meeting places for their little black market includes a room that’s difficult to find in Hogwarts, an unused classroom with desks and chairs piled on top of each other in the back of the room along with an old, ornate mirror that has _Mirror of Erised_ engraved on the top.

“...I thought you guys would have weed,” is what the Gryffindor fourth-year says after Anna’s rattles off her usual spiel about the items they have.

“We don’t have weed,” Anna confirms.

The Gryffindor looks upset. Their friend, a third-year Hufflepuff, only rolls her eyes.

“You’re gonna have to ask Linhardt about that,” Yuri offers as compensation for their wasted time.

_“Who?”_

“A seventh-year Ravenclawーyou know, the one who has his own reading nook in the library because he naps there so often.”

“I don’t go to the library,” the Gryffindor says blankly.

The Hufflepuff sighs through her nose. “Never mind, _I_ do, I know who you mean.” She tugs the Gryffindor by the sleeve. “C’mon, I don’t wanna get caught out past curfew again.”

“Hey, last time was only because I wasn’t expecting Professor Jeralt to be patrolling outside...”

As their voices fade as they leave the room, Yuri says to Anna, “Well. That was a waste of an outing.”

“Eh, could be worse.” Anna shrinks her bag and drops it into her pocket. “Claude didn’t give you the Map tonight, did he?”

“Unfortunately.” For reasons he didn’t explain, the elusive snake. “We should be fine though, I can guide us back safely.”

“Alright.” Anna laughs nervously and salutes. “This one’s on you, chief.”

And it _is_ on him when they run into Shamir two halls down after they leave the classroom, standing guard outside the library. She raises a brow at them, clearly out of bed past curfew, takes away 30 house points, and gives them detention for a week.

“Cleaning the Trophy Hall,” Anna groans at breakfast, head in hands. “As if that place isn’t clean enough with how often they punish students to clean that place.”

“I’m not complaining,” Yuri says, dignified at least in this considerably merciful punishment. “Caspar and Sylvain had to shovel hippogriff dung last week, and I’d rather have this than that.” Though his arms will be aching afterward with all the cleaning they’ll be forced to do. He’s not looking forward to that.

Anna shudders. “Merlin, you’re right.”

Dorothea, however, is disappointed by the news. “You’re going to miss a week of practice.”

Yuri shrugs her off. “I’ll make up for it. We’ve already been practicing at lunch, anyway.”

“You’ll probably miss the next Quidditch match, too,” Claude adds in.

_That_ gets Yuri’s attention. “Well, fuck. Isn’t it Gryffindor and Ravenclaw next week?”

“Yeah.”

“You know, we probably wouldn’t have gotten caught if we had a certain map to help us,” Anna sighs and looks pointedly at Claude.

Claude shrugs and grins playfully. “Hey, not my fault you guys couldn’t navigate without it for a night. Though it _is_ a shame that you got caught, it’ll be over before you know it. Hang in there.”

Easy for him to say.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


During period two in Charms, Yuri messages Ashe about last night’s events.

  
  
  


**Yuri:** youll tell me how the match goes, wont you?

**Ashe:** what’s in it for me?

  
  
  


Across the room, Ashe sends him a cheeky smile before turning to face Manuela at the front of the class.

  
  
  


**Yuri:** trading in deals now, are you? didnt think you had it in you. fine. what do you want?

**Ashe:** let’s go to Hogsmeade, you and me, in December

**Yuri:** if it was a date you wanted, sparrow, all you had to do was ask

  
  
  


As the class is set to work, beside him, Dorothea says lightly, “The only thing stopping you from sitting in class together is yourselves.”

Yuri resists rolling his eyes. “It’s not like we have to be around each other all the time.”

“No, but you want to be, don’t you? And you’re just doing this so no one gets suspicious.” Dorothea sighs at Yuri’s silence. “This is unbearable to watch now that I can see it happening. Please get it together, Yurikins.”

“Only if you ask Petra out.”

“Fuck you,” Dorothea says, because they both know Dorothea isn’t sure if Petra likes her yet, or like that, among the other, more serious matters that is Dorothea’s family.

“I’ll pass on that.”

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


December arrives, and with that winter break is in sight. For some students, it brings a short burst of energy. For others, it does nothing at all but make them double down on class work.

On Saturday, Yuri resists the urge to fix the tilted knitted hat on Ashe’s head as they head to Hogsmeade, just the two of them this time. He doesn’t stop himself from taking in the sight, though, until they enter Spintwitches Sporting Needs, and Ashe sheds the hat, stuffing it into his coat pocket. There’s a few students around and they can’t _really_ call this a date by Yuri’s standards, but having Ashe by his side without anyone else they know around is still nice. Yuri indulges himself with another sidelong glance, lets his hands linger on Ashe’s arm to steer him into a shelf of Quidditch gloves.

That is, until someone they _do_ know is around.

Yuri hears a familiar voice drawl, “Oh? Two of my favourite seekers in one place, I wonder why?” and snatches away his hand, smoothly turns around with a fake smile tacked on to his face.

Claude grins at them, an arm swung around Hilda’s shoulders, who looks like she’s trying to escape, looking longingly down the street to another shop.

“We’re looking for presents for Ashe’s siblings,” Yuri answers as the reason they’re together. His fingers burn in his pockets at the loss of contact.

Claude hums and nods half-heartedly. “That doesn’t _really_ explain why you’re in Spintwitches, but I’ll let it slide because I’m a little preoccupied myself. My hands are full with this oneー”

“It smells like broom polish in here,” Hilda complains, nose covered with the sleeve of her arm. “You’re not even here to _buy_ anything, can we just go to Dominic Maestro’s alreadyー”

“Yeah, yeah.” Claude gives them a parting glance as they go. “You’d think I dragged her into a sewer with how she complains sometimes. Well, I’ll see you guys later.”

Yuri throws them the stink-eye as soon as they turn away and leave the shop. Ashe stifles a giggle behind a hand, and Yuri relaxes slightly at the sound.

“Was there anything you wanted to buy?”

Ashe shakes his head. “No, I already bought everything for Christmas. Do you wanna get some butterbeer?”

The day isn’t quite cold enough and it’s too early in the morning for many customers at The Three Broomsticks, which gives Ashe and Yuri the chance to snag a table in the back behind a Christmas tree that Yuri honestly thinks is set up too early into the month - it’s only the 12th. Still, he’s glad for the cover, because it means no one can see him and they won’t be bothered by anyone looking to pester them; he has Ashe all to himself. He takes a sip of the butterbeer Ashe brought to the table, watching Ashe cup his hands to catch fake snowflakes falling from the ceiling from a neat charm, endeared by how enamoured Ashe is with the decorations and light charmwork.

“You’re staying for Christmas?” Yuri asks.

Ashe’s eyes break away from the ceiling to smile at him. “I know I will. What about you?”

He asks like Yuri has anywhere to go. There’s no way he’d go to Rowe’s estate, and while his mother wouldn’t mind him returning home, he doesn’t want to be a bother to her.

“I’ll be right here,” Yuri says, and takes another gulp of butterbeer. The _even after last year_ goes unsaid, but Ashe still nods, wrapping a hand around Yuri’s, which is still grasping the cup. “Was there anywhere you wanted to go after this?” Yuri adds; Ashe was the one who asked Yuri out this time, after all.

“Gladrags Wizardwear.”

“You want to check their socks again?”

“I have a coupon,” Ashe defends himself. “Besides, I heard they got new socks that are...cotton candy scented?”

“Why would you want your socks to smell like cotton candy?” Yuri mutters to himself, but downs the rest of his drink. Ah, whatever. It’s not like he can say no to Ashe, anyway.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


**NOTICE BOARD: Announcements**

Merry Christmas and happy holidays :-) - Flayn

\- Happy chrismis - Sylvain

\- It’s chrismin - Annette

\- Merry crisis - Linhardt

\- Happy holliyeets - Byleth

> We discussed this last year, Byleth. Please stop saying ‘holliyeets.’ The very word now haunts my dreams. Who taught you this? Was it Sothis? Sylvain? I beg of you to cease the usage of this cursed word. - Lorenz
> 
> Actually, I think it was Claude Who was responsible. - Sothis
> 
> Why would you throw me under the bus like this? What did I do? - Claude
> 
> Have the audacity to exist near me. - Sothis
> 
> I see. You’re trying to take me down before our match against Hufflepuff. - Claude
> 
> Maybe so. - Sothis
> 
> Claude. We will have words later. - Lorenz
> 
> We’ll have words, you say? You sure you’re not gonna murder me in the snowball fight later? - Claude
> 
> That remains to be seen. - Lorenz

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The peaceful morning of December 25th is disturbed, once again, by Claude and Cyril.

“Do I look like I care if it’s Christmas?” Yuri mumbles as he fights a losing battle of trying to yank his bedsheets back over himself. “The presents will still be there when I get up later.”

“Spirit of the holidays and all that,” Claude says. “Come on, mockingbird, it’s already 9am.”

“On a Friday during the winter break. Fuck off.”

“I will carry you bridal style if I need to.”

Yuri blinks at him with sleep-crusted eyes. “Do you have the arm strength for that?”

Yuri doesn’t learn the answer to that, because instead Claude waves his wand and sends Yuri floating above his bed, grabbing desperately at the bedsheets. Still holding on to the other end, Claude and Cyril drag him, still floating, out to the common room.

“Hold onーI’m not _dressed_ ー”

The others in the common room don’t blink twice at their entrance, busy opening their presents and still half-asleep themselves. Hilda is missing from their regular group, summoned home by her brother and family. The only one sitting at a table and clearly not opening presents is Lysithea, who’s doing work. At 9am. On Christmas Day. _In the common room._

Claude forgets his situation with Yuri to march over and swipe one of the textbooks from under her nose. Lysithea whirls to face him. “Claude!”

“Nuh-uh, no complaining today, Princess.” He frowns as he looks down at the textbook. “And no work, either. Work is cancelled until winter break is over.”

“I was almost doneー”

“Oh, hush.” Dorothea drapes herself over Lysithea, who looks like an adorably disgruntled puppy. “Let’s get you out of here. You look stressed.”

Lysithea huffs, but when Claude makes no move to return the textbook, she begins packing up, because even she knows when to give in when the situation calls for it, and this is one such situation.

“This is all well and good,” Yuri calls from midair. “But is anyone gonna let me down?”

“You’re a Quidditch player, you’ll live,” Cyril says bluntly.

Yuri doesn’t even know what that means.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Winter break is a bit of a shitshow in Hogwarts. This has something to do with the fact that some students treat it as a free-for-all in the castle with most of the teachers taking a rest, Seteth being the only consistent one breathing down the students’ necks for once, and there is only so much he can do as one professor in charge of over thirty students.

The day is spent pointedly avoiding homework while they prepare for the annual snowball fight/capture the flag, which is treated by some students as seriously as Quidditch House Tournaments. Shamir and Jeralt are there to observe the game from a distance as the four houses build their forts and snowballs. Yuri and the other Slytherins are on the lower hill, by the iced-over lake, the other houses nowhere in sight.

“Nothing against the rules about putting rocks in the snowballs, is there?” Yuri says, weighing a hefty rock in his hands. He’s not wrong, mostly because there aren’t many rules included in this, only that each house needs a fort and flag to defend.

Constance slaps it out of his hands, scandalized. “We aren’t trying to murder our fellow students.”

“You aren’t, maybe I am,” Yuri counters.

“Not a bad idea,” Claude says. “But let’s save it for emergencies, okay?”

Constance mutters, “What kind of emergency would entailー? ...Maybe I would prefer not knowing.”

“Yeah.”

Lysithea pokes at the fort with her wand and mutters another cloaking spell. “Do you have another grand plan of attack this year, Claude?”

“I don’t care what it is,” Cyril says, “as long as Peeves isn’t involved.” They all collectively shiver at fifth-year memories and the trauma it brings.

“Not to worry,” Claude says with a sneaky smile, bringing a finger to his lips. “I’ve got something even better this year. Been planning it since October, actually.”

Lysithea lifts a brow at the hole he uncovers from inside the fort, previously covered by a bush. “Is that...”

“An entryway to the Gryffindor’s fort? Yup.”

“But...the fort locations are hidden from the other houses,” Cyril says, confused.

“Oh, come on,” Claude says, “you didn’t think all those times I spent sneaking off with the Marauder’s Map was me doing nothing, right?”

“Youー” Constance squints suspiciously. “Which Gryffindor did you seduce?”

“Eh, I wouldn’t say that...I mean, if he happened to slip what they were planning for the annual snowball fight while we were talking then that’s on him, right?”

“...Damn,” Yuri says, tilting his head after some thought. “I can’t figure out who could’ve done it. They’re all so stupid.”

“Don’t think we have this in the bag, though,” Claude adds. “They’ve all got surprises with them, so who knows. And things might not go according to plan.”

“Alright. What is the plan, anyway?”

Bernadetta, Cyril and Dorothea stay behind to defend the fort, while Yuri, Lysithea and Claude are attacking the other forts.

“First order of business is the Gryffindors,” Claude says. “We just have to wait for the signal...”

On cue, Shamir’s whistle sounds. The birds take off in a flurry at the sound, a sight to see flying above the trees and away from the castle, but nothing else happens.

With one last whispered warming charm, Yuri follows the other two into the hole.

It’s damp and warm inside; maybe he didn’t need that warming charm earlier. Claude shines a light with _Lumos_ down the rest of the empty passageway as they step carefully over overgrown roots and loose dirt.

“This place smells,” Lysithea grumbles.

“Hey, at least you don’t have to crouch like us giants.” Yuri’s expecting the small smack Claude gets in return for that, and rolls his eyes.

The ceiling shakes above them. Dust rains from the ceiling before the small aftershocks cease.

“Geez, they’re having a party without us there,” Claude says. “Hope there’ll still be something when we get there.”

They emerge from the hole to a fierce cold; Yuri recasts his warming charm over the trio and looks around. They’ve emerged directly behind the fort with no one in sight.

“Jackpot,” Claude whispers as he conjures a nearby bush to cover the hole. “Yuri, you’re on lookout.”

Yuri slides to the front of the group, creeping up to the wall and around the corner. In the distance, he can see movementーa fight?

The entrance is unguarded when he sees it. “They’ll be guarding the flag inside,” he tells the other two.

Claude rubs his hands together in excitement. “Alright, I got this.” He takes out a dungbomb from his many pockets and hefts it over the wall of the fort.

No one stumbles out from the entrance.

“Great, now we have to go where the dungbomb set off,” Lysithea says sarcastically. “Great plan, Claude.”

“I’d rather smell bad than just walk in there. Still it is kinda strange...” Claude peeks around the corner. “There really is no one there. Huh. Everyone be on guard.”

They find Caspar and Balthus passed out inside. The flag is nowhere to be found.

“Shit. Someone got here before us.”

“Who could’ve-?” Lysithea pauses, her eyes widening. “Maybe it wasー?”

“Flayn,” Claude finishes with a nod. “Makes sense. She travels the easiest with an invisibility cloak...well, no sense in trying to look for someone who’s invisible. Let’s go for Hufflepuff, then.”

Sounds near the entrance of the fort. The three stiffen. Yuri chances a peek around the corner, and frowns at the scene he finds. “Is that...is that allowed?”

Claude peeks up from above him. “Oh. Huh. That’s new.”

“Move over, what are you twoーoh. I guess this is to be expected with those two, huh.”

Still, it is a new scene to be treading upon, what with Felix dragging behind him what looks to be Sylvain’s dead body past the fort to behind the trees, too distracted to notice them.

“I always did think he was going to kill him someday,” Lysithea muses when Felix disappears. “I just didn’t imagine it would be happening now.”

“How convenient,” Claude says. “Let’s just go on and ignore this for now?”

“It’s not like he’s actually dead.” Lysithea looks like she sorely doubts her words, but she shrugs it off.

A large shadow falls over them, and the three step back. Yuri looks up, shielding his eyes against the piercing northern sun, andー

“You’re kidding me,” he says flatly.

“Is thatー _please_ don’t tell me _that’s_ allowed,” Lysithea says in disbelief. “It’s...it’s not even on the ground! That has to be some violation of the rulesー”

“Well, it’s not like the fort _has_ to be on the ground,” Claude says, and the two trust him to know the rules front-to-back, because they don’t fight him. “Still, isn’t this a bit excessive for a snowball fight?”

As if in response to his question, the dragon animated out of ice and snow roars in laughter as it dives into the battleground far ahead, disappearing into the trees and causing a _boom_ that shakes the ground. A witch cackles among the carnage.

“This is why no one likes Ravenclaws,” Yuri growls. This was probably Flayn and Quinn’s idea, if he had to guess who was responsible.

“I hope they change this rule next year,” Lysithea says vehemently. “What are we gonna do now?”

Claude taps a finger to his chin, closing his eyes. After a moment, he says, “Nothing.”

“I hope you have a reason for why.”

“Making their fort a dragon makes it a glass cannon,” he explains. “Sure, they have more firepower - well, ice power - now, but once the dragon’s destroyed, so is their fort, which would eliminate them from the game.”

“So you’re just gonna leave it to the other houses toーdeal with them?” Lysithea demands.

Claude shrugs. “Hufflepuff and Gryffindor can take them, don’t you think?”

They certainly have a fighting chance, now that Yuri thinks about it. Edelgard and Dimitri alone are formidable enough, but with their whole house, plus another house...

“Let’s go with that,” Yuri says.

Decision made, they prepare to instead find Hufflepuff’s fort.

They skirt the real battle once they come upon it, easy to tell where it is from a distance, the flash-bangs and ground-shaking roars, magic whipping through the air as snowballs fly. A tornado of snow is forming as ice wings flap. Lysithea eyes it with some trepidation, doubt on her face, before she shakes her head and follows after them. They’re not here to fight, though Yuri would’ve enjoyed watching their opponents tear each other apart. Claude murmurs a spell, one that reveals footsteps that were hard to see in the trampled snow, and they lead to another fort - one with a yellow flag flapping in the cold wind. Hufflepuff.

“Who do you think is guarding it?” Yuri says.

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?” a voice says from above.

Someone flies down from the branches to thwack Yuri on the head. Yuri faceplants into the snow, clambers up on all fours, and shoots blindly a spell at the shape, which turns out to be Annette.

Behind him, a sweet voice says, “Welcome to Hufflepuff! Would you like snakes or bunnies?”

Mercedes smiles serenely down at him in front of the fort. Lysithea swiftly blocks the barrage of snowballs that fly their way with a barrier. Behind Mercedes, Byleth steps out. Dumbfounded, he can hear Claude repeating, "Snakes or bunniesー?"

Someone behind Yuri’s group says, “Get his ass!”

Yuri barely has time to turn to register the flash of claws and tiny teeth that streak past to collide, hissing, into Byleth’s face, soaring from inside Flayn’s sleeveー _when did she get here?_

Byleth is taken down, ironically enough, by the tiny Hungarian Horntail he gifted Flayn in his fifth year that he earned during the first trial in the Triwizard Tournament.

Flayn releases a war cry and charges at Lysithea, who dodges. Trailing behind her, Linhardt sighs. “I told her to stay hidden...this is too much work.”

Unnoticed by Linhardt, the red flag strapped on his back is lifted into the air and soars above them. At the top of the Hufflepuff fort, Dedue snatches the Gryffindor flag and disappears inside the fort without a backwards glance.

“Claude,” Yuri yells, “the flagー”

He’s interrupted by a body tackling him to the ground. He blinks up at Ashe, and calls to Claude, “I can handle it, keep going.”

He doesn’t hear Claude’s response, busy grappling with Ashe as he tries to take his wand from him. The two roll off in the skirmish, trampling bushes and snow in their wake. Ashe’s knees trap his body on either side.

“Holdーstillー“

Yuri punches Ashe in the stomach. Ashe keels over, and Yuri takes the opportunity to flip their position, pinning his arms above his head. Ashe pants, face red with exertion. Yuri leans closer to him, and the two stay there, quiet.

“Do youー” Ashe huffs a breath that warms Yuri’s cheeks and blows back his hair, warm in the cold chill even as it makes Yuri shiver. “Do you wanna get hot chocolate after this?” He smiles up at Yuri, limp in his arms, though Yuri doesn’t soften his grip, just leans closer into Ashe’s warmth.

There’s no one around to see Yuri press his forehead to Ashe’s. “Sure,” he murmurs, “why not.”

The two stay in that position for a long time until Yuri’s legs threaten to fall asleep.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The Slytherins end up winning the snowball fight, which doesn’t surprise Yuri. Claude and Lysithea managed to grab the two flags in one fort, and their fort was able to defend against the other houses after Ravenclaw's dragon fort - _seriously, how was that allowed?_ \- was taken down.

Dinner is an event in and of itself, with so few students at Hogwarts that the tables are rearranged into a large square. Students and professors pass down plates of food or float it over to the other side. Mariah Carey’s All I Want for Christmas is You blasts from above like its coming from the heavens itself and not the enchanted ceiling.

With curfew lifted for a night, the students are free to wander the castle. Yuri and Ashe stay sequestered in the kitchens where they share a cup of hot chocolate, passing it between them until they run out, then making some more while charmed gingerbread cookies try to run from their grubby hands. It feels like last year, but better; there’s no doubt of that in Yuri’s mind as he swipes the cup from Ashe and downs the last of hot chocolate.

Dedue, Annette, and Mercedes join them, not to bake anything, but talk amongst themselves. Their conversation is lighthearted, and it washes over Yuri, who listens to them with his chin on his palm, slowly feeling a calm wash over him as they share playlists and recipes and giggle over card games lost and won.

When it nears midnight, Yuri leaves for his room. Holiday decorations are strewn up, lighting the halls. There’s music playing still, but this time it’s Justin Bieber’s Mistletoe.

Which would be fitting, considering what he stumbles upon as he’s passing the Great Hallーagain. Surprise surprise, Sylvain’s still alive, but that probably won’t be long, considering who he’s creeping towards.

“Uh oh,” Sylvain says, “looks like _someone’s_ under the mistletoe tonight.” Felix, looking more like a feral raccoon, visibly bristles as Sylvain approaches.

Yuri decides not to stick around, because he doesn’t want to witness what could be Felix finally murdering Sylvain for realーor worse, something of romantic nature occurring.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Christmas was different this year. The halls looked a tinge more haunted, and Yuri made sure to look twice around corners.

Despite the recent attacks - two students and one ghost paralyzed - this hadn’t stopped the students who stayed behind this year from having their snowball fight. Yuri shook off the lingering cold and took small sips of the hot chocolate, burning on his tongue. Beside him, Ashe smiled before he sneezed, his drink sloshing over his pants.

Yuri cleaned up the mess with a wave of his wand. Ashe thanked him, but, compelled, Yuri placed a hand on his face, thumb swiping the spot of cream in the corner of Ashe’s mouth.

He stared at his thumb. He wasn’t sure what brought him to do that, only that he hadn’t been thinking, and Ashe looked so vulnerable in the moment.

Ashe’s breath caught. He stared back at Yuri, wide-eyed, mouth open. Yuri’s eyes narrowed; he thumbed at the corner of Ashe’s mouth, felt the stutter in Ashe’s breath leave his lips.

It’s with his heart in his throat that Yuri kissed Ashe, hot chocolate forgotten on the table.

When it was done and Yuri drew away, breathing hard like he’s run a mile, Ashe absentmindedly lifted a hand to his lips, as if scared that touching them will rub off the feel of Yuri’s lips on his, but Yuri knew some things are permanent in a way no one can see, and this was one of them: Ashe’s lips, inhaling the gasp of surprise, then the sigh into Yuri’s mouth that he swallowed up hungrily, communication without words, a silent exchange in the quiet night.

Ashe’s lips looked wonderfully kiss-swollen where Yuri had nibbled at his bottom lip, and when Ashe’s tongue traced over where Yuri’s teeth had been, Yuri’s stomach swooped.

“Yuri,” Ashe said, and the way he said his name so reluctantly made a pit form in his stomach, dark and heavy. “I don’t...”

_...Know. ...Feel the same way,_ Yuri’s mind supplied, filling in the blanks. He drew back with the excuse of fixing clothes that don’t need fixing, because throughout it Ashe hadn’t touched him, kept his hands balled into fists on his lap.

“It’s fine,” Yuri said smoothly, even though he could still taste Ashe on his tongue. “It doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to be. I just felt like doing it.”

Ashe nodded hastily. “I didn’t not like it. I just don’t know if...”

“It’s fine, sparrow.” Yuri wrapped his hands around his cup to ground himself. “You don’t need to explain yourself.” He knew there was a chance that Ashe wouldn’t like him back; it had been the only reason it had taken him so long to do something until now. Fuck, he hadn’t destroyed their friendship with that, had he?

“Okay.” Ashe only looked relieved at Yuri’s words, taking up his own cup and finishing his hot chocolate. Yuri silently watched the way his throat bobbed before looking away.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


If this were a normal day of winter break, Yuri would be in the Slytherin common room lazing about the day. Unfortunately, it’s New Years Eve, which means he’s in the Gryffindor common room.

Fact: Yuri would prefer not to be near any Gryffindors, if only because of the amount of energy that’s drained from him by being around them.

Another fact: the Gryffindors throw the best parties.

(A close second would be the Ravenclaws, whose game of Charades grew so heated that they knocked off the head of the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw and almost lit the bookshelves in their common room on fire when two students resorted to duelling when they couldn’t come to terms on a realistic dinosaur’s appearance. They’ve banned the game from their common room since.)

But it’s entertaining to watch everyone as Yuri quietly drinks his butterbeer in the corner. There’s a fistfight that’s about to break out on one table because the group there can’t decide whether they’re allowed to stack +2 and +4 cards in Uno - no one seems to notice Claude sneakily placing some of his cards into the deck. In another part of the common room, an assortment of the houses are stuffed in front of a TV, cursing loudly as they fall off Rainbow Road. With a few of the Hufflepuffs, Ashe is roasting s’mores in front of the fireplace.

Sylvain’s sitting beside Yuri, for some reason, most likely because no one is looking in the corner much at them. Yuri would’ve assumed Sylvain would’ve been with his friends, being part of the crowd or the centre of attention, but it probably has something to do with the heart-eyes he’s beaming at Felix, who deliberately ignores the boy.

“Let me guess,” Yuri says. “I take it Christmas Eve went well for you?”

Sylvain blinks a few times like he’s repeating the words in his head before he says, “What?”

“The mistletoe,” Yuri drawls, lifting his cup for a small sip.

“You were looking?” Sylvain says, mouth curving in a sly smile. “I didn’t take you as a voyeur.”

“I didn’t exactly want to watch, but you _were_ standing in the middle of the hall,” Yuri says pointedly. “Don’t worry your pretty little head; I left before anything happened.”

“How polite. Not something I expected from a Slytherin.”

“I didn’t want to witness a murder.”

Sylvain chuckles, his eyes finding Felix across the room, the other boy engrossed in the next Mario Kart race. His voice drops to a mumble as he leans toward Yuri. “Am I being that obvious, or are you just observant?”

Yuri squints at him. “Do you not notice how you act around each other, or do you choose to be dense?”

“I guess I’ve never been known for any subtlety.” Well, neither is any other Gryffindor, so there’s that.

Yuri swirls his butterbeer and stares into the liquid gold. “Why don’t you go to him?”

“Huh?”

Yuri rolls his eyes. “Why don’t you go talk to him right now instead of brooding in the corner with me? There’s not exactly anything stopping you.”

“Eh, you know Felix,” Sylvain shrugs like Yuri, does, in fact, know Felix, when he very much doesn’t. “He needs his space sometimes.”

That, Yuri understands, as he looks at Ashe, laughing at something Annette has said.

“What about you?”

“Hm?”

“What are you doingー‘brooding in the corner,’ in your words, when you could be there?” Sylvain gestures around them.

Yuri pointedly stares at the table that gets flipped over by the group playing Uno, a fight finally breaking out. “Entertainment,” he says, and takes a long gulp of butterbeer.

“Fair enough,” Sylvain says, and he leaves after a few minutes to try and swing an arm around Dedue’s broad shoulders from where he’s sitting on the couch. Yuri joins Constance, overseeing an arm wrestling match between Hapi and Balthus.

That night, Yuri pulls Ashe away from the party and farther up into the tower where he can press him into the wall and feel him surge forward into the kiss. Ashe gives as much as he takes, reciprocating by biting down softly on Yuri’s bottom lip and pulling him closer until Yuri can feel his heart rattling inside his ribcage.

In each other’s embrace, they watch the fireworks go up from Hogsmeade at midnight from their high viewpoint, and Yuri feels a little at peace, if only for a moment.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Yuri found Ashe in the hospital wing, called over by a worried Mercedes. He was sitting on the bed, his back to the entrance, facing the other hospital bed, another student joining the list of paralyzed victims to stay in the hospital wing.

Yuri made his steps purposefully loud, rounding the bed to see Ashe’s pale face. He’d never seen Ashe look so lost before, and it made his heart feel like it’d been cleaved in two, pecked over by harpies on the side of the dirt road.

“Sparrow,” he said softly. Ashe’s eyes snapped to his, latched on with desperation like he was the last string holding him together.

“I didn’tーI wasn’t there,” Ashe whispered hollowly. Yuri sat beside him. “She just said she was going to the library. I don’t understand how this...I should’ve been there.”

“But you weren’t,” Yuri said simply.

“I should have,” Ashe insisted. He didn’t fight it as Yuri pulled him into an embrace, clutched at Yuri, fingers digging into him uncomfortably, but Yuri voiced no protests. Ashe’s whole body trembled like he was holding back a sob.

“It’ll be fine, sparrow,” Yuri said, reassured him with a hand on his back. “There’s a cure being made right now. We just have to wait.”

In his arms, Ashe fell apart. Yuri held on and waited patiently for him to build himself back up again.

Across from them, Eleana lay frozen in the position she was found in, holding a compact mirror.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


My sweet mockingbird,

Happy holidays! I hope your classes have been going smoothly. Now that it’s winter, I’ve been having hot chocolate every night before bed. It reminds me of when you were a child. Do you remember that?

I dropped by Aldrin’s apartment the other day to see how he was faring while his heater had broken down - they won’t be able to fix it until next week. His apartment is quite sparse, save for the large cork board he had with multiple pictures of cryptids and monsters. Apparently he’s a fan, or something or the sort?

Another thing - I ran into the ghost the other day. They haven’t caused any trouble since arrival other than possibly being the cause of the flickering lights on our floor. They didn’t see me, but I saw them opening the door to Aldrin’s apartment, which I thought was strange behaviour for a ghost. Can’t they just walk through the wall?

I’m starting to think they’re not a ghost at all if they’re able to touch objects. Hopefully I can meet them properly to learn what their intentions are with Aldrin.

Quidditch season will be starting soon, won’t it? I wish you luck. Don’t work yourself to the bone, or I’ll hear about it from your headmistress.

  
  
  


With all my heart,

Mama Mockingbird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If y’all remember the cat incident in the hp series where Filch’s cat was petrified, that took place in Harry's second year. Since I messed with the plotline, this takes place in Yuri’s sixth year, just clarifying
> 
> The extent of metamorphmagi’s powers are fairly free to interpret from the info I’ve found. It’s a little hand wavy whether metamorphmagi can transform into animals/different fantasy creatures so I treated it like free real estate


	5. haha no homo tho amirite

Working with Marianne for the musical is a pleasant experience. She’s polite and soft-spoken, but she’s beginning to fit into the role of Sophie well, nailing down her more aggressive lines. Into February, Yuri thinks she’ll be perfect during the performance, too.

It’s as they’re packing up for the afternoon in the theatre that Manuela announces when they’ll be showing the play: from May 24th to the 26th in the evening. And Yuri might not know Marianne well, but it’s impossible to miss how much paler her face turns at Manuela’s words, how her hands shake as she grabs her script and rolls it tight in an anxious habit.

“Hey,” he calls to her before she leaves. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

She doesn’t turn to face him, but her shoulders hike up, enough of an answer for Yuri.

Yuri explains, “Sparrow told me about why you decided to audition, but that doesn’t mean you have to force yourself if you don’t feel well.”

“Thank you,” she says, not unkindly, but distant as the acquaintances they are. And that’s fair; while Yuri knows of Marianne, Marianne probably doesn’t know as much about him, secrets kept under lock and key.

What Yuri offers is not enough, but only time will tell how Marianne will fare.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


He couldn’t find Hapi. He’d been searching for her for the past hour, combing through the castle as a one-man army on a warpath, but there was no sight of her, and Constance was too busy in the Slytherin common room to offer her assistance.

It was with that in mind that he visited the cattery, located on the first floor of Hogwarts, but he wasn’t expecting to find two different Hufflepuffs there instead.

“Oh.” Ashe looked surprised to see him there, which makes sense, what with Yuri’s allergies. Yuri could still see the marks painted underneath his eyes, been there since that day in the hospital wing, proof of sleepless nights and endless pacing.

“Have you seen Hapi?” Yuri eyed the cat in Ashe’s lap. Beside him, Dedue was petting several cats strewn across his legs, seated on the floor.

Ashe’s eyes narrowed as he blinked quickly like he was struggling to stay awake. “Is she not in the common room?”

“I checked already.”

“Have you tried the Ravenclaw common room?” Dedue suggested. “She might be with Ignatz.”

“I’ll check there, then.” Yuri glanced at Ashe again as he leaned against Dedue’s arm. A part of him wanted to ask if he’s okay, but they hadn’t spoken properly since that December night, even in the hospital wing. “Thanks.”

He left them behind, feeling like he should’ve said more.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


**NOTICE BOARD: Announcements**

If anyone sends another flying leprechaun with a love letter to read like last year on Valentine's Day I am going to sic Peeves on them. - Felix

\- Hate to rain on your umbrella but the idea of Peeves following anyone’s orders is...laughable. - Claude

\- What if it wasn’t a leprechaun but a swarm of doxies? ;) - Sylvain

\- Due to a complaint from a student and for the safety of everyone in the school I will be conducting a search in the Gryffindor tower for any suspicious behaviour. - Professor Seteth

> Man, Edelgard’s such a killjoy ;( - Sylvain

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Yuri still has to be forced out of bed in the morning for their match against the Gryffindors, but he manages. There’s snow on the pitch and the wind is fierce. Yuri tightens his ponytail and leads the Slytherin team out of the tent with Claude to the cheers of a welcoming crowd.

The Gryffindors greet them on the pitch, the brightest spot of colour, donned in red amidst the snow. Edelgard and Dimitri march up to him and Claude, nodding at them.

“Took you some time to get here,” she says with a smile. “Were you hiding, scared, in the changerooms?”

“Now, we wouldn’t do that,” Claude says. “If we were scared, we wouldn’t have bothered to leave our beds at all.”

“I’m glad. I want a good match.” Edelgard’s grin is eager, and Claude manages to hide his wince when they shake hands; Yuri does not when he does the same with Dimitri.

Alois blows the whistle, and the match begins.

Yuri tunes out Flayn’s commentary as he circles the pitch, planning to keep out of skirmishes in the centre. He dodges a Bludger sent his way by Raphael.

An idea pops into his head at the sight of the Gryffindor seeker, and Yuri grins. Is it a good idea? Well, it is certainly an idea, that he can confirm. He flies up to her, who’s looking over the pitch with calm eyes.

“Hey, friend.”.

Petra barely spares him a nod before returning her attention to the Slytherin goalposts, where Edelgard doubleteams the keeper with Leonie to score. The crowd roars, the benches shaking with the sound of it.

“I wanted to ask, what you thought of Dorothea,” Yuri says lightly, “and whether there was anything you were planning to do anytime soon.”

“She is a very good friend,” Petra says. A small smile flickers on her face; internally, Yuri fist-pumps. “I was hoping she could help me with a question I was stuck on in Defence Against the Dark Arts later.”

Not the answer he was looking for, but he’ll take it. “I meant, if you were planning on doing anything _else_ with Dorothea.”

“Anything ‘else’?”

“If you had any...” Yuri bats his eyelashes. “Romantic intentions.”

Petra makes a noise of understanding, and Yuri thinks he’s finally gotten her, but instead she says, “You’re trying to distract me from the match, aren’t you?”

Damn it. She wasn’t even a little flustered by his words.

“Noー” Yuri tries to say.

“It’s okay,” she continues. “I admire you, using whatever tactics you have to win. If you have a way to win, then I think you should use it, or else then you areーwhat’s the word? Not trying hard enough?”

“Half-assing it,” Yuri offers flatly.

“That is not the word I was looking for, but the sentiment carries.” Petra clears her throat. “...I will think over your words later. Thank you.”

Distracting the Gryffindor seeker ends in failure, but maybe Petra will do something on Dorothea’s behalf. As Petra flies off, Yuri returns his attention to the match with a forlorn sigh.

The Gryffindors are aggressive as always, their focus being on pressing the attack on the Slytherins and wearing them down by sheer willpower. The Slytherins, meanwhile, are content to weave in and out of attacks, swooping in whenever they see the opportunity and goading them on whenever they miss a shot. Yuri keeps one eye on the game while searching for the Snitch, hovering near goalposts or by the Slytherin beaters, Amethyst or Solomon, in case a Bludger comes at him.

There’s a flash of gold by the Gryffindor stands; Yuri speeds off towards it without hesitation, his hand reaching for the fluttering Snitch.

He’s so distracted that he doesn’t see the Bludger heading his way until it smashes into his arm full force, sending him spinning into the walls. The impact leaves his head ringing, the right side of his body aching, but he can still fly, he thinks determinedly. He switches to his other hand and grits his teeth as he sees a red streak bearing upon something small nearby - Petra.

He may be slower now, but he’s still closer.

He urges his broom to burst towards the Snitch, snatching it out of the air before it can disappear again.

He lands woozily on the pitch, finally hearing the cheers of the crowd. Manuela is already waiting for him, and he sighs. Hospital wing it is.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


He‘s forced to stay overnight on Manuela’s orders because of the possible concussion he might have. It wouldn’t be so bad if the bed wasn’t so stiff.

Ashe is the last to visit him for the day. Yuri’s friends have all dropped by already to shower him in light encouragement to feel better soon and that “his tombstone will remain unmarked until he decides what to write on it,” because apparently one Quidditch injury equals death. Gryffindor’s second beater, Caspar, also comes by to apologize about the injury, which Yuri shrugs off; it’s Quidditch, it’s a sport, people will get injured. That’s just how it is.

“How long do you have to stay?” Ashe asks as Yuri swipes the bottle of hot chocolate he’s brought with him, along with a plateful of cookies.

“Only overnight,” Yuri says. He smiles slyly at him when Ashe reaches forward to fix the bedsheets around him and coos, “Look at you, being a caring boyfriend, bringing me sweets and fussing over my bed. You’re so sweet, sparrow.”

Ashe blushes furiously and glances around them, ensuring there’s no one around to stand witness, then hurriedly pecks Yuri on the forehead. Yuri laughs at this, grabbing Ashe’s hand and squeezing it gently. Ashe smiles back and takes out his phone. “Did you want to listen to a podcast or something?”

Maybe it won’t be so bad with Ashe here, even if the bedsheets are scratchy.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


They were in the hospital wing again, but this time for different reasons; the paralyzed victims were sectioned off the rest of the room by a curtain, and Yuri stood in front of Ashe’s bed, trying to figure out what he should say.

“It was my fault” is what he came out with. It sounded so much like something Ashe would say that Yuri’s mouth twitched before he schooled it back into a frown. “I wasn’t focusing. You didn’t have to push me.” It was pathetic of him, to be helped by an opponent during a match. Ashe had pushed him out of the way while Yuri had his sights elsewhere, and the audible _crunch_ by Yuri’s ear that was Ashe’s arm breaking is a sound that was sure to haunt Yuri in his nightmares later.

“I didn’t want you to get hurt. Besides,” Ashe said, “the Bludger was going for your head. If I hadn’t pushed you, you’d be...” He blinks a few times and shakes his head, not bothering to finish the sentence. “Anyway, only my arm got hit, so it’s fine.”

It was just like Ashe to worry, despite the fact that Yuri probably would’ve lived just fine - with a concussion, maybe, but fine otherwise.

It was then Yuri realized that Ashe was impossible to dislike, despite the fact that where they were now was a little stilted, not on Ashe’s part but on Yuri’s, unsure of where they stood after Christmas despite everything.

Maybe he didn’t have to worry about anything at all is what he thought as Ashe looked back at him, because Ashe would’ve stayed his friend, even while knowing Yuri’s feelings.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


For the nth time that night, Yuri holds back a sigh. “Why are we watching this movie when the school’s holding a musical of it this year?”

“Research purposes,” Dorothea quips while scooping a handful of popcorn out of the bucket in Cyril’s lap. The projector plays Ghibli’s _Howl’s Moving Castle_ on the curtains, a closeup of Howl as he takes a seat, exhausted from his flight.

Hilda sighs dreamily. “Isn’t this the ideal? Travelling between different places without having to pay taxes?”

“With a handsome, mysterious wizard,” Dorothea adds.

“With a handsome, mysterious wizard,” Hilda says. “Speaking of handsome, mysterious wizards...”

Yuri raises a brow when she turns to him. “Yes?”

“This isn’t really _important,_ buut I was wondering if you were gonna be wearing a wig for the performance?”

“Can’t he just transform into a Howl lookalike?” Cyril asks.

Yuri flexes his hand. The others fall silent as the movie’s dialogue continues. He feels a cold ripple over his skin, his hair shortening to his shoulders, and exhales a shiver.

He smiles. “Is this good enough?”

They stare back. In awe, Dorothea breathes, “Woah.”

“You look just like him,” Hilda gushes as Claude shakes his head. Beside Yuri, Bernadetta offers him her phone. The appearance that greets him is familiar yet not, different in some ways from its 2D counterpart, but characteristically Howl nonetheless. Yuri smiles dashingly.

“Don’t get carried away, now,” Dorothea says.

He returns Bernadetta’s phone, and they continue watching the movie.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


“You need to have a little more flick in your wrist, I think...the sharper it is, the cleaner the charmwork is, I think.” Ashe frowned, following his own instructions with a swish and flick. A small bout of magic burst out of his wand, a small barrier shimmering in the light of the classroom before dissipating. “Like that?”

Someone swung open the door to the classroom, and Yuri expected it to be Jeralt returning from lunch, but it was Linhardt.

He frowned at them. “Professor Jeralt isn’t here?”

“No, he stepped out for lunch,” Ashe said. “Did you need him for something?”

“I suppose I’ll just have to find him later, then,” Linhardt said, resigned. “What are you two doing in this empty classroom?”

The two exchange a glance. “Practicing charmwork,” Ashe answered for them both. “We’re trying to learn _Protego_.”

“In that case, you might want to fix your stance,” Linhardt said. “Shield spells require something more solid than just a swish and flick. Here.” He stepped in front of them and drew out his wand from his sleeve. Spread his feet to shoulder width, straightened his back and slashing the air with a “ _Protego_.” A large shield appeared to separate them, rippling like water in the air. It vanished like mist a few moments later.

“Oh, wow,” Ashe said, open-mouthed. “That was great, Linhardt!”

“Spellwork is more than just waving a wand around,” Linhardt said. “It’s about the intention behind the spell that makes a wizard creative. There are plenty of ways a wizard can use one spell, as long as they know how to use the magic around them effectively.”

“What do you mean by that?” Yuri asked.

“For example, the Patronus charm isn’t just used as protection as Dementors, but can also be used to send messages between people. The same way warming charms can be casted on you as well as your friends. It’s about the intent.” Linhardt paused, returning his wand to his sleeve. “That, and how well you understand magic.”

Ashe tilted his head. “What exactly do you mean by ‘understanding magic’?”

“First the general knowledge - so, knowing your wand, the spell’s requirements to be cast properly, those kinds of things. And the application of it. Wands are used as a conduit of magic since it’s difficult to focus magic without one - there’s so much magic in the air that you’d need a strong sense of what you wanted in order to cast any normal spell. Casting a wand without magic...” Linhardt shook his head. “Next to impossible.”

“Dimitri doesn’t use a wand, though,” Ashe pointed out.

“Maybe so, but he’s an exception. He doesn’t have much of a choice. Still, for being able to cast magic wandless alone makes him one of the most talented wizards in our generation.”

“ _Why_ doesn’t he have much of a choice?” Yuri asked. He knew Dimitri from some of his classes, but the two had never spoken unless it was in passing.

“Er...” Ashe, embarrassed, fumbled with his wand. “He doesn’t have a lot of self control, and along with how naturally strong he is...”

Linhardt’s tone was curious. “Is it true he broke three wands before he decided to just learn wandless spellcasting?”

“...Yes.”

“I feel sorry for those wands,” Linhardt murmured, and looked up at them. “Well, don’t let me keep you. If you could text me if you find Professor Jeralt...”

“Oh, yeah, of course!” Ashe waved as Linhardt left the classroom.

“I think that’s the most I’ve heard him talk at once,” Yuri remarked.

“He usually only has something to say when it catches his interest,” Ashe explained. “And I guess this is in his area of interest, since the Hevring family’s well known for their wandmaking.”

“Too bad he’s already gone. I would’ve asked for an extra demonstration. Do you remember what he showed us?”

“Maybe? Hopefully?” Ashe tried to mirror Linhardt’s stance. “How’s this?”

“We’ll work on it,” Yuri said after a moment of scrutinizing, because he was unsure himself whether this was accurate enough.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


My sweet mockingbird,

How have you been? It’s been colder here recently, and I haven’t been able to open the windows like I used to. I hope you’ve been taking care of yourself.

I tried speaking to the ghost the other day. They were wandering near the laundry room alone, but they disappeared before they could answer when I asked what their name was. Maybe I should just confront Aldrin about it. What do you think?

Congratulations on winning your Quidditch match! Your team seems to be doing well, from what you’ve told me.

I hope you’re enjoying yourself with the musical as well. I’ve been doing just fine here, so there’s no need to worry about me. Do whatever you want while you’re there; don’t just focus on work.

  
  
  


With all my heart,

Mama Mockingbird


	6. purple boi (+ co.) gets saved by purple boi (+ co). purple solidarity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of this chapter is a sixth year flashback, so buckle up
> 
> Warning for Ashen Wolves spoilers up ahead

“Do you wanna go see it?”

“What?”

“Allen said they finished building Howl’s castle.”

“Huh,” Yuri says. “Alright, sure.” They have some time before their next respective classes, so after lunch he and Ashe visit the tech club, located near the Slytherin common room since the dungeons are one of the few rooms large enough to hold all the inventions made by the club - mechanical wings that can be fitted onto a person’s back, a smaller version of Godzilla in the works, life-sized versions of chess pieces. It leaves the club room a cluttered mess, like some kind of steampunk apocalypse barfed in the room, but every member’s able to pick their way across it with practiced ease.

“Allen,” Ashe calls, leading the way to his brother. They find him at the back of the room next to aー

“Wow.” Yuri stops, tilting his head up all the way, and then some. “Is that thing gonna fit on the stage?”

Howl’s castle looks like it popped out of the film, creaky joints and all to stumble across the floor. Dormant, it sleeps in an awkward sitting position.

Quinn’s head pops out of what Yuri presumes to be the entrance. “It better! I measured everything and shit.”

“Isーthere’s an inside?” Ashe asks, wide eyed.

“Yeah, check it out. You guys will probably fit.”

‘Probably’ is an understatement, as Yuri finds out when he enters with Ashe through the back door, up the steps to an empty room. The room’s clearly been enlarged with a spell, one likely similar to Anna’s bag. There’s an empty fireplace setup where Calcifer would be.

“This is...a lot,” Yuri says. “And the castle appears in...I think I can count the scenes on one hand. The audience is never even gonna _see_ the inside.”

Allen shrugs. “It’s Quinn,” he says, as if that’s enough to sum up the reasoning behind the amount of work that went into this project, whichーmaybe it does, considering her track record.

“It still malfunctions a little when it walks,” Quinn tells them as they walk out. Yuri has no idea how she isn’t pleased by the amount of progress they’ve made. “Think it needs more levitation charms to lighten the load the chicken legs need to carry. But as soon as I get this bad boy walking, there’s nothing stopping me from taking this invention after the play’s over and roaming England with it. Hell, I’ll travel the whole world in this.”

“That sounds...vaguely illegal,” Ashe says.

“Who cares,” Allen grunts. “She doesn’t have to pay taxes if she actually does it.”

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Their first lunch together since the start of sixth year, Yuri and Ashe compared their schedules as they did yearly, leaning towards each other over their plates of food. At his shoulder, Yuri said flatly, “Really? Divination in sixth year?”

Ashe sighed, an uncharacteristic glare on his face. “We’ve been through this already, Yuri. You don’t have to like the classes I’m taking, because you’re not taking them.”

“It’s a waste of time,” Yuri muttered, but let the matter drop, as much as he thought there was no way to predict the future. Ashe was as stubborn as he was.

Ashe continued as well, because some disagreements would always be the same between them, a game of tug-of-war between two persistent sides. “Who’s Professor Aelfric? It says you have him for Defence Against the Dark Arts.”

“Must be a new teacher. Looks like you’ve got Jeralt again, though.”

“Hey, guys,” Claude slid in to sit beside Ashe, looking harried as he placed his textbooks aside to tuck himself in. “Whew. I forgot how much of a snooze Binns’ classes were. I can’t believe I fell asleep and no one woke me up...”

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


It’s a windy spring day for the next Quidditch match. Yuri waits with the others in the stands, snacking on breakfast he swiped from the Great Hall on his way out since he overslept; Lysithea’s eating a slice of cake she got from the kitchens and refused to share with anyone else, even though Claude’s sneaky hands look inches away from them every time Yuri looks in their direction.

Flayn opens up the match to an impatient crowd as the teams liftoff, red and gold blurs in the air. Yuri adjusts the newest omnioculars he received from Constance this Christmas, shifting to each player. He points to the speck that is Petra in the distance and says tauntingly, “Hey look, ‘Thea, it’s your girlfriend.”

He doesn’t need to look at her to imagine her rolling her eyes. “Hilarious. What a comedian we have here. Haha, anyway, Yurikins,” she points to a moving dot Yuri makes out to be Ashe, “isn’t that your boyfー”

Yuri shoves the rest of his muffin into her mouth, breakfast be damned.

Claude says, “Is it just me, or is Sylvain acting a little funky today?”

“He does look...a little out of it,” Yuri confirms, zooming in to see the frustrated look on his face as he misses a pass of the Quaffle he would normally catch with ease.

“They’ve got Sylvain and Leonie up as chasers today,” Cyril says, puzzled. “What happened to Ferdinand?”

“Oh, that.” Hilda giggles. “I heard he got caught outside of curfew a few days ago. Only Gryffindors, huh?”

“And some dim witted Slytherins,” Claude leers. Yuri glares and elbows him in the side.

With Sylvain unable to find his rhythm, the Hufflepuffs are free to snatch up his fumbles; Byleth, Ingrid, and Sothis score points, and with the Gryffindor team scrambling, it leaves Ashe unguarded as he steals the Snitch from the air for his team.

Seeing Claude musing quietly to himself as Flayn announces the final points - 170 to 60 -, Yuri asks, “How many points are we going to need to win?”

“Currently, we’re in third place at 220 points,” Claude mumbles, rubbing his chin. “If we wanted to take the cup, we’d need over 160 points.”

“Then we’ll take over 160,” Yuri says, turning to see their final opponents and winners of this match being shuffled off the pitch. As the crowd rises around them to leave, Yuri sees one small figure stop and turn. From his view in the omnioculars, Ashe meets his gaze for a fleeting second, before he turns away again.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The discreet knock on the door was oddly familiar, suspicions confirmed when Ashe peeked in, looking around. His eyes widened when he saw who was there. “Oh, Yuri.”

“Hey,” Yuri said, turning away from his work, determined not to make this awkward, especially with an audience. “Need something?”

“Uh, just looking for Professor Jeralt for something...what are you all doing here?”

Hapi didn’t bother to look up from where she was sitting on the desk, scrolling through her phone. “Waiting for Coco here to finish her work. B’s just here for detention, which is typical.”

“Hey,” he compained, “I didn’t ask to get caught for sledding down the roof.”

Yuri squinted. “I mean, since you were doing it on the roof, yeah, you were kinda asking for it.” He sighed, turning back to Ashe as Balthus grumbled. “Professor Aelfric asked me for some help with organizing his classroom and allowed me to study after. He’s just in his office now. Professor Jeralt will probably be in the teacher’s department if he wasn’t in his classroom.”

“Right.” Ashe struggled for a second, looking at all of them and lingering on Yuri before he shook his head. “Make sure Professor Aelfric escorts you back to your common rooms, alright? It’s been...bad, lately,” he said lamely, in reference to the latest attacks within the school - another day, another student paralyzed. It was probably a bad thing that Yuri’s become numb to it all.

“You, too, when you see Professor Jeralt,” he said, and Ashe nodded and slipped away without a smile.

“Is there something going on between you two?” Hapi asked a moment later, the sound of Ashe’s footsteps fading.

“What makes you think that?”

“You didn’t call him by that nickname you had for him once that whole time.”

“They’re in a bit of a rut lately,” Constance said forlornly. “It’s a shame Ashe visits the Slytherin common room less often...his presence is tolerable compared to some of the other students. And his studying habits are one to admire.”

“We’re fine,” Yuri said, a little irritated, annoyed at the idea of his friends inserting themselves into this matter and the fact that they had even noticed. “He’s just been busy lately. That, and his sister.”

“Oh, right,” Hapi said. They were all close enough to Ashe to know he visited her in the hospital wing every night.

Yuri returned to his work, though he couldn’t stop thinking about the thin look on Ashe’s face, the reluctance, and wondered what he would’ve said to him if no one else had been around.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


**NOTICE BOARD: Miscellaneous Questions**

Can we get a therapist or five - Sylvain

\- I think that’s the smartest suggestion you’ve made, ever - Ingrid

\- What would any of the students need therapy for? - Ravenclaw first-year

> It’s not like you need to be traumatized by a basilisk to need therapy, but. We did have that as well. - Ignatz

\- ...I doubt wizards know what therapy is. - Sothis

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Waking lightheaded was not the best feeling in the world. Everything came to slowly with a slow, aching quality to it, sound and vision fuzzed around the edges. Cold all over on wet ground, Yuri made out through blurred eyes the dim light, dark shadows flitting behind his eyelids. Someone was talking; the noise grated on his ears, and he groaned quietly.

The ground was slippery stone he struggled to sit up on, slow to rise, head pounding. Someone yelled his name from a distance through the headache. Yuri cleared out the ringing in his ears to see Constance on the other side of the room. The alarm on her face woke him up immediately, didn’t add up with his last memory of being in the classroom, studying. There was a strange circle below him, one with strange symbols painted in red. When Yuri tried to stand, something tugged him down like he was weighted, sapping his energy. A quick glance showed Constance, Hapi, and Balthus struggling as well in circles similar to his own.

“I did it for her sake. It’s all for her.”

Aelfric stood in front of them with a mournful face, but the resolve in his tone was made of steel.

“Bastard!” Balthus yelled. He sounded like he’d been yelling for a while now, with how hoarse his throat had become. “Not even magic can bring a person back from the dead. It’s never worked before.”

“It’ll work now,” Aelfric said grimly. His face in the ghoulish lighting was milky pale, the light gone from his eyes. “IーI was never planning to do it, originally. But then I found her body...” Yuri made out the dim shape stretched out behind Aelfric on the tiles, roughly shaped like a human, hidden by cloth, and he felt cold all over. “I studied for years. Decades, until I finally got some help. A way to bring back a person from the dead...we’re different from Muggles, aren’t we? With the magic we have, we should be able to bring people back to life.”

“Life and death isn’t something we can tamper with, and you’re a fool if you think you can do it,” Constance said coldly as Yuri tried to test his restraints again, to no success. Whatever was written on the circle continues working even when he smudges the text with his hands, and his magic didn’t work, with or without his wand - some kind of temporary binding, and he was no Dimitri. Yuri frowned at the amateurish appearance of the text in an unknown language. Is this really all that was needed to resurrect a person? Linhardt and Flayn put more effort into making summoning circles to test the Hogwarts wards, and that was when they were both eleven, though the attempt to summon dragons into Hogwarts had undoubtedly failed. This looked sloppier than that, yet the effects were obvious; it was difficult to focus on anything around him, and he felt like his breathing was being cut off, restricted at the throat like something was squeezing there, lightly. “Plenty of more talented wizards than you have attempted this, and there’s a reason none of them succeeded.”

“This circle you bound us to is going to kill us, isn’t it?” Yuri said. “You’re trying to take away our energy to try and put it into a corpse.”

“I didn’t want to resort to this,” Aelfric said. “For months, I’ve been trying to find a safer methodー”

“Months?” Yuri realized, “Oh. You’re the one who’s been petrifying all the students.” He never should’ve trusted him. He thought maybe he would be safe here, but maybe there’s no such thing as safe. Do Hogwarts staff not perform proper background checks on people they’re looking to hire?

Oh. Oh. Yuri was going to die here.

He hadn’t even graduated yet, and he was going to die here. He wasn’t even sure where _here_ wasーhere was dark and cold and wet on the ground. Nothing worthy or respectful about it; he was going to die a sacrifice.

Fuck. When was the last time he saw his mother, that smile and her soft voice? He couldn’t remember the last thing he ate. There was still the final match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw that he needed to see. There was still his deal with Rowe, being scouted by a Quidditch team before he graduated, there was stillー

Ashe, who had looked so unsure when he last saw Yuri; what did he want to tell him? Bernadetta, the times she would babble about whatever caught her eye as of late in the confines of her dorm. Dorothea and her annoying insistence of trying to recruit him into the drama club. Would he ever see them again?

Well. Yuri’s eyes slid over to Balthus, Hapi and Constance’s forms, struggling on the ground as they grew weaker and weaker still. At least he’d die alongside some friends, though he would’ve preferred being alone for this, because maybe then they would be alive.

“It’s not going to work.” Hapi’s voice was a quiet wheeze, thin as a reed and wavering. “When this is over and it fails, you’re going to be left with four extra bodies to take care of.”

Yuri’s eyes were drooping with the effort it took to stay awake. Part of him wanted to sleep, curl up on the ground and let the spell claim him, but a small part of him was screaming, and angry. Bitter and desperate, made of all the stubborn parts he carried along with him when he first arrived to Hogwarts that was never smoothed down by a regular student’s life, an instinct for survival so potent it made him thrash wildly like a fish’s last pathetic effort out of water.

“Your deaths will be for a good cause, even if it is a selfish one.”

“Shut up,” Yuri rasped, inhaled, inhaled, inhaled without an exhale. “I don’t want to hear that from you.”

As he was fading out he heard footsteps echoing on the stone tiles, the faint voice of someone shouting, “There! That’s them.” Forcing his eyes open, he squinted at the blurred sight of a group approaching them.

The magic of the binding tugged at him, and everything fell away.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


**NOTICE BOARD: Miscellaneous Questions**

No but, seriously. Can we get a therapist? - Sylvain

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


A quiet murmur of voices beyond. He felt stuck underwater, flowing with the current. He stayed there a while longer, content with knowing nothing, until he became more aware of himself; the scratchiness of the sheets, the ache in his body, the crustiness of his eyes. He forced himself awake.

He was in the hospital wing. Gold streamed through the windows like the nightmare before was finally over, faint laughter from outside.

“Yurikins.”

Hapi’s the first to reach his side from her own cot beside him, and Constance was the second. Craning his neck, Yuri saw Balthus snoring loudly, as expected; he doubted the boy had any volume other than ‘loud,’ even while unconscious.

“We’re alive.”

“Way to state the obvious,” Hapi said dryly.

“My bad. For a second there, I thought we really were gonna die.”

“And perhaps we would have met that fate, if Byleth’s group hadn’t arrived,” Constance said. “Professor Aelfric had set loose the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets and has been trying to capture students for his experiment throughout the year. He’s been captured since and is being questioned by Headmistress Rhea.”

So the Chamber of Secrets was real. Not the most surprising thing, considering how many secrets Hogwarts surely held within its walls. Yuri’s sure they’ve barely scratched below the surface. “How did they figure out where we were and get in? The rumours said only the heir of Slytherin could unlock the Chamber.” Yuri’s face twisted. “Does that mean Aelfric’s a descendant?”

“Like I said, he’s being questioned, so as of now no one knows how he’s been using the Chamber. What we _have_ been informed about though is that we wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for Ashe.”

“Sparrow?” The surprise of hearing him mentioned threw him off for a moment. “What does he have to do with this?”

“Your little sparrow saw something wrong in the tea leaves and threw the whole castle into chaos once it was confirmed that we were missing,” Hapi said. “From there, it was a breaking lead that he found with his sister, finding the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, fighting the basilisk, and then finding us.”

“Hufflepuffs always were good at finding things,” Yuri muttered thoughtfully. “But he wasn’t alone.”

“Of course not,” Constance said. “He was with his friends, and anyone else he managed to round up in that time. They only managed to enter the Chamber of Secrets in the first place because Sothis was with them.”

The unexplained reasoning behind this made Yuri think a moment longer on why she would mention Sothis and what he knew of her. She and Byleth were siblings, they both played Quidditch together, he knew that, but he also remembered Byleth mentioning that Sothis was adopted.

“She’s an heir of Slytherin?”

Hapi shrugged. “One of them, but that’s not surprising for me. Anytime I’ve seen her with her pet snake she’s hissing at it in some corner. What I’m still trying to process is the fact that the one who slayed the basilisk was Lorenz.”

“ _No_ ,” Yuri said, in horror and disbelief. Trying to sit up in his cot ended in failure, and he winced. “Tell me that’s a joke.”

“I saw him there before I passed out. He was holding the sword of Godric Gryffindor.”

“Are you telling me I owe my life to the student with the worst haircut in our grade?”

“Even worse,” Hapi said gravely, “he’s a Gryffindor.”

Yuri’s laughter burst out of him in a fit of relief, the freedom of being alive and how calmly everyone is taking their near-death situation. The sound finally woke Balthus with a grumble and a roar as they all teased him for sleeping inーwhatever counted as sleeping in in this situation. Yuri’s just glad to be alive with them.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


All in all, the four of them recovered quickly under Manuela’s careful eye. There wasn’t much damage done in the first place - some bedrest and meals, and then they were permitted to return to daily school life, which was unfortunate since exam season is upon them. Yuri studied with the others and complained every time he woke early, and everything was normal.

A week later found him sneaking outside for some fresh air in the night sky, without the burdens of upcoming exams or nightmares about that incident, just him and a flight in a silent pitch. Unsurprisingly, he found the one person who hadn’t come forward to see him since that night there.

Ashe had been avoiding him. He didn’t know why, but it must have something to do with what happened that night, though Hapi never mentioned Ashe being in the Chamber of Secrets. Yuri took his time in the shadow of the stands, watched Ashe as he looped and dived, pulled up at the last second, that same restless energy in the way the broom jerked under his hands.

“Looks like Divination isn’t so useless after all,” Yuri called. Ashe turned to his voice as Yuri revealed himself, swung a leg over his own broom to join Ashe on the pitch.

Ashe looked about as fine as any student does before exams. The bags under his eyes were prominent but not permanent, face pale and drawn. He wiped his forehead with his arm, the exhaustion of practicing for hours clear on his face but his eyes still sparked when he saw Yuri.

Yuri started off with a “Hey, sparrow,” because this Ashe looked too tired for something harsher. “I heard you were running around like a headless chicken after you saw what was in your teacup.”

“It was worth a try. I didn’t know if it was true or not, but after I couldn’t find you guys in the classroom or in your common rooms, I thought something felt...wrong.”

“So even you didn’t trust the tea completely?”

“It’s not like the future’s ever revealed itself to me before. This was a first.” Ashe’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m glad I managed to help, at least. I’m glad you’re all safe.”

“You have a weird way of showing it,” Yuri said, mirroring his smile into something twisted. “It’s been, what, a week since we last talked? You’ve been avoiding me like I dropped ten dungbombs in your suitcase. What’s the problem?”

“I’ve just beenーthinking.” The hesitation was so clearly weighted that Yuri could practically see Ashe’s thoughts without the use of Legilimens.

“Is this about what happened at Christmas?”

Ashe wouldn’t look him in the eyes. “Yes and no.”

Yuri sighed. “Like I’ve told you before, it’s nothing you need to concern yourself with. If you don’t feel the same, you don’t. Don’t go thinking you owe me anythingー”

“Why me?” Ashe blurted out. “Why is it me and not...someone else?”

Yuri arched a brow. “I thought that would’ve been obvious by now.”

There was no explanation for the knowing, instinctual as it was, that this was not a feeling he could capture twice-more with a different person. Ashe understood him better than anyone he’s ever met, maybe even himself.

Ashe had never expected him to be anything.

“You see me, sparrow,” he said earnestly, and it’s the most true he’s ever been to anyone in years. “You see me, and you let me see you.” But that’s nothing special; Ashe was open about his past to anyone. Even if he was treated with scorn or pity, Ashe had never lashed out at anyone for it. It takes a different kind of strength to bare yourself to the world, flaws and all, and it’s one of the many reasons Ashe is better than Yuriーand so far out of his league.

He let Yuri tell him about his past - and he listened quietly, offering no comfort when Yuri talked about his father who left after discovering his mother was a witch, the deal he made with Rowe when his mother became sick.

He knew that he was not Rowe’s son. He didn’t need anyone’s pity because of it.

And Ashe didn’t give him any pity, which Yuri was thankful for.

“Oh,” Ashe said. Then, “I see you.” It’s worded like a question with a lilt to the end, an answer he seeked by lifting his hands from his broom to gently cradle Yuri’s face. It was the softest anyone’s ever treated him in years. Something in Yuri welled up in his chest, and he snuffed it out before it came out, up his throat.

“You see me,” Yuri said, voice raw, naked to the bone. He cleared his throat, but the ache remained. “But I’d rather you not treat me so nicely if you’re going to reject me. You’re giving me too much hope.” And Yuri was a splintered bird with wings made of paper, too light to carry the burden of a broken heart, too easy to burn.

“Sorry,” Ashe said, and Yuri’s heart sank. “I’m sorry I didn’t see you sooner. I had a lot to think about.” His thumb brushed lights over Yuri’s cheekbone; he never knew before then how kind heartbreak could be. “I finally realized something, when you went missing.”

“Yeah.”

“Iー” Ashe gulped. His hands were shaking on Yuri’s face, and he looked terrified. Not at Yuri, he wasn’t looking at Yuri; he was reliving a memory. “I thought you were dead, or dying. And I thoughtーI thought I was dying, too. With you.” _Because of you,_ Ashe didn’t say.

“Oh, sparrow,” Yuri breathed. He didn’t expect the extent to which Ashe cared about his friends, about him. “I’m sorry.” Trying to play it off as a joke, he said, “Will it help if I told you I didn’t have much choice in the matter?”

“That’s not it.” Ashe shook his head, and he looked Yuri square in the eye; the intensity of it almost made him duck. “I mean, I finally realized my feelings for you when you went missing. It took me that long to figure everything out.”

“What?”

“Yuri, I like you.”

This wasn’t so much a punch to the stomach as Yuri’s world being flipped upside down and shaken up like a snow globe. He blinked, righted himself from when his hands had slipped from his broom, his heart beating fast in his chest, louder than a rocket about to takeoff. He processed the words, one by one, ran them over again in his mind, double checked, triple checked, all while Ashe held his face in his sweaty hands.

Unsure, Ashe said, “I wasn’t sure what you wanted to do. I was thinking, maybe we should date?”

“Date?” Yuri echoed stupidly.

“Since we like each other. We can give it a try?”

That would be the normal process. But Yuri’s skipped over it somewhat in his head; he’s imaging himself two years in the future, five years, ten. He imagined homes filled with the scent of something cooking, two pairs of shoes in the front foyer, someone waiting for his return. Nights never spent alone, a companion by his side.

He couldn’t see it. He couldn’t see himself being loved for that long.

So with that in mind he said, “I’ll go out with you, but I want to keep it under wraps.”

“Oh. Why?”

“I want to keep it a secret from our teams. Think about it.” Yuri tugged at Ashe’s hand. “When’s the last time you saw two players on different teams dating?”

“I don’t...” Ashe frowned. “I don’t remember that ever happening.”

“Exactly. I don’t want to ruin the competitive atmosphere we have, or make anything awkward between our teams.” Grinning, Yuri leaned forward. “What do you say, sparrow? Think you can keep a secret?”

Ashe’s hands blessedly remained on Yuri’s face as he mulled it over, leg kicking at air. He was slow to say, “I don’t mind. We can keep it secret. I’ll hide it for you.”

Yuri smiled. A part of him was still trying to imagine his life ten years from now, but maybe he just didn’t have the creativity to imagine himself living a life where he was truly happy. “Thanks, sparrow.”

At least he would have this, for however long he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuri’s deal with Rowe was that when he became a pro Quidditch player Rowe would get a percentage of Yuri’s cuts


	7. what if....we held hands.....and we were on opposing teams in a quidditch match......haha jk....unless...??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning up ahead for uh, cheese + some dialogue taken from the end of the hmc novel
> 
> Fun fact: my friend and I made an equation to get the total approximation of house points a house would get by the end of the year, only for me to realize when I was done writing the fic that the house points wouldn’t even be needed in the final scene. Or any scene, period. [honks clown nose sadly]

Dress rehearsal takes place in the afternoon a week before the first performance, a dry run-through complete with the stage crew, orchestra, and actors. Costumes are fitted properly, backgrounds are moved on and off stage, the castle has its final tests to ensure it’ll work the day of performances. It’s Yuri’s first time really seeing the magic that happens backstage, the back-and-forth of people with their own tasks in mind like a fully functioning beehive, and he takes his time observing them when he can, silently appreciative of the amount of work put into this production, even if he never wanted to be a part of it in the first place.

“Wow, Marianne, you look amazing,” Dorothea gushes.

Marianne blushes, curling a strand of red hair behind her ear. “You really think so?”

“Yup. Yurikins, doesn’t she look beautiful?”

“Of course,” Yuri says as he approaches, fixing the coat wrapped around his shoulders.

A frown works its way up Marianne’s face. “Do you think...I look better like this?”

“Hm?” Dorothea says. “Were you thinking of dying your hair red?”

“No, I meant...” She gestures at her face, still not meeting their eyes.

“Oh.” Wordlessly, Dorothea and Yuri exchange a glance above Marianne’s head. The makeup covers up the scars that are normally wrapped around her face, a story Yuri doesn't know about but can guess. Dorothea says, “There are some magical items that could help you hide your scars, if you wanted some recommendations. Though I think, personally, that you look beautiful either way. Don’t feel obligated to change if people say otherwise, okay?”

“...Okay,” Marianne eventually says, and Dorothea’s called away for her makeup, leaving Yuri with Marianne.

Yuri stares at Marianne as she fidgets with her hands, carefully not touching the costume she’s been put in, and says, “You know I’m a Metamorphmagus, right?”

“Oh, yes,” Marianne says. “It...must be nice, being able to look however you want.”

“This is my regular face.”

“Huh?”

Yuri points to his face. “I wear makeup all the time, but this is how my face looks normally. Without the purple hair, of course.”

“Oh. That’s...that’s not what the rumours say.”

“That’s because I haven’t told anyone the truth.” Yuri smiles. “I already do people’s requests all the time, transforming into other people as a joke or as a stand-in, and it’s much more comforting to be in my own body when it’s done.”

Marianne doesn’t say anything, but at least she’s looking at Yuri, an indecipherable look in her eyes. Like she’s finally reached a conclusion in something, she says, “I think I can see why Ashe treasures his friendship with you so dearly.”

Aha, ‘friendship.’

“And I treasure him just as much,” Yuri says with a smile, before he’s called away to do his own makeup. When he sees Marianne again, she seems...not different, but settled, as she talks to Dorothea, deep in thought but not deep enough to look up and give a small wave to Yuri.

The dress rehearsal occurs without a hitch along the way, and the team congratulate themselves as Manuela goes over reminders for the next week and the planned continued promotions until the day of before they’re let go to clean up and reorganize.

“It’s not so bad, is it?” Dorothea says to him as they leave, bag swung over her shoulder. She waves goodbye to some of the crew that leave with them, splitting off to go to their respective common rooms. “The drama club.”

“I never said they were,” Yuri says. “But I wasn’t exactly planning on landing a role in the musical this year.”

“Too late to run now.”

“Unfortunately,” Yuri agrees.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


“How would a wizard fly to the moon?”

“What?”

“How would a wizard fly to the moon?” Lysithea repeats. “It was our question from Muggle Studies today.”

“On a broom,” Yuri says sarcastically.

Lysithea rolls her eyes. “Technically, they could.”

Hilda doesn’t look up from her phone as she says, “Well, you can’t breathe on the moon, so you’d probably need something similar to the Bubblehead Charm.”

Claude speaks up with, “You’d need to take into account temperature difference and lack of gravity too.”

Hilda frowns. “That already sounds like a lot. How did the Muggles do it?”

“They’re resilient and hardworking.” Claude shrugs and smiles, shaking his head ruefully. “While wizards were trying to figure out how to cure lycanthropy, they were constructing rockets to fly to the moon. It’s not a surprise.”

Bernadetta pauses in her work, tapping silently on her laptop from beside Yuri. Haltingly, she says, “If one wizard brought a portkey with them to the moon, would they be able to transport other wizards there that way?”

“Right, because apparating’s not an option with how far it is.”

Lysithea’s returned to her work by now, letting the others continue their discussion; all the while, Cyril sits across from her on the table, deep in thought. “What if you got to the moon and found out you were allergic?”

“Allergic to what?” Yuri asks.

“The moon dust.”

“The what,” Dorothea says.

“...Please tell me that was said in jest,” Constance says, hand already on her temple.

“No, no it’s definitely a real thing I remember there was an astronaut thatーhold on.” For a tense moment, Cyril searches something on his phone as the group exchange confused shrugs. “Yeah right here, Harrison Schmitt, suffered an allergic reaction to moon dustー”

“That’s an actual _allergy_?” Hilda says, shocked.

Yuri snorts. “Imagine becoming an astronaut only to learn that you were allergic to the moon.” Merlin, that was sad. And also hilarious.

An odd, loud ding interrupts their conversation. Yuri can’t place the sound, and he doesn’t realize why until he sees Claude fish his phone out of his pocket.

“Huh,” Hilda says, “I don’t remember seeing you use your phone before this, Claude.”

“I didn’t even know you owned one, to be honest, if it weren’t for your instagram account I found,” Dorothea says. “What’s the special occasion?”

Claude taps away on his phone, tongue poking out. “Well, since our dear mockingbird is going to be in his first musical, I decided to invite my parents.”

“First, and last,” Yuri says.

“The way you worded that, Claude, makes it sound like you’re his parent,” Dorothea says.

Claude snorts. “Father of one at the age of seventeen. How does Claude Riegan juggle his many worldly responsibilities while still caring for his one and only son?”

“Huh, wait, so your parents are actually coming to see the musical?” Hilda asks. “I’ve never met them before.” Most pureblood families usually knew each other with how few of them there were left, but Claude had been raised in a different country, and the wizards in England had only ever met his father, with his high-ranking position in the Ministry of Magic.

“Yeah. Since it was last minute, though, they’ve only got tickets to the final day.”

“Oh. Oh no,” Hilda groans, putting her face into her hands, “that’s when my family is coming to watch! What if they run into each other?”

“I’m sure they can exchange some pleasantries. Unless,” Claude raises a brow, “you’re scared your family will tell embarrassing stories from when you were a child?”

“Yes! Holst never stops gushing even when I tell him to stop...ugh. I’m getting shivers thinking about it.”

Yuri rolls his eyes at her dramatics. “Technically this can go both ways, though,” he says, “since nothing’s stopping Claude’s parents from sharing their own stories from when he was a child.”

“Oh. Oh, you’re right.” Slowly, Hilda lowers her hands from her face, a look of glee spreading on her face. She rubs her hands together excitedly. “Oh, I’m gonna need to ask my older brother for a favour...”

“Are...most of your families going to be there?” Bernadetta asks. At the answering nods and affirmations, she fidgets with her hands. “That’s nice.”

The odd reaction and slight longing in her voice makes Yuri tilts his head. “Your parents aren’t coming to watch?”

“...No. Probably not,” she admits reluctantly. “I mean, I wouldn’t want my father to be here, but...”

And good riddance, too, Yuri thinks vindictively. He says, “To be fair, my mother won’t be coming to watch, either. We’re in the same boat, huh? That’s not so bad.”

“So I take it Rowe isn’t coming to watch either?” Dorothea says.

Yuri frowns. “Of course not.” That’s not how their relationship works. Rowe is Yuri’s caretaker, but only because he knows Yuri’s worthーor at least, the worth Yuri promised himself to be that day years ago when he’d tried to pickpocket a wizard and ended up striking a deal instead. Rowe may give Yuri everything he wants - the highest quality brooms, a safe place where his mother can live in peace, sending him off to school - but Rowe’s also expecting Yuri to pay back in kind once he joins an international Quidditch team after he graduates. Yuri knows he is an investment. There’s no hard feelings between him and Rowe; in the end, they’re both using each other.

“I’m pretty sure Ignatz or Flayn owns a high quality camera or something,” Cyril says. “Want me to ask if they can record one of the performances for your mom? And for you too, Bernie?”

The willingness to go out of his way for Yuri’s sake doesn’t strike with a punch, but it aches all the same in the best way possible.

Yuri smiles. “It’d be nice if she could see it, yeah. Thanks.”

They return to their work, and eventually one by one they shuffle into their rooms, done work for the night or dragged to bed by insistent friends.

The performances start tomorrow. Yuri needs to be ready.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Jitters backstage and a restless crowd in front, Marianne waits nervously behind the curtains, peeking at the talkative audience. Yuri stands beside her, not planned to appear immediately in the first scene and much calmer, closing the curtain before anyone gets a glimpse of her. “You’re sure you’ll be able to perform today?”

Ashen-faced, whether because of anxiety or - well, the _other_ thing - Marianne nods, hands screwed into fists as she glares into the floor. “I’ll be fine. I can do this.”

So she’s not completely lost, and she has plenty of backbone left. Good. “Yup. You’ve practiced plenty of times before, and this is just the usual. If you make a mistake, it’s fine, because we’ll cover for you. You have nothing to worry about.” Yuri glances to the side as a crew member signals to them. “Looks like it’s time. Go on. The stage is waiting for its star.”

“Thanks.” Marianne does an awkward half-nod, half-bow that brings a smile to Yuri’s face. “You too.” And even though she still won’t meet his eye half the time, Yuri knows she’ll be fine; throughout their practices, she’s never been one to lose her willpower halfway through. She’ll be fine on stage, and isn’t that a surprising thought, the idea that one of the shyest people Yuri had ever met could become comfortable speaking in front of an entire audience?

Marianne steps out onto the stage, and the first performance begins. Marianne embodies the role of Sophie - she's accepting of her fate at the start, letting her younger sisters go without a protest of _but what about me?_ , but being cursed has her shedding that shy layer to reveal herself, stubborn and strong-willed, truly the eldest of three sisters. Everything occurs as planned without any mishaps, and by the end of the night Yuri finds himself taking a bow on the stage with the rest of the cast to the cheers of the audience. Yuri’s friends meet him afterward with only praises, and they go to bed late after discussing the musical.

The second night is much the same as the first, only that Marianne is drastically paler than before, and Yuri has to catch her when she stumbles during a dance break, acting like it’s all part of the plan with the fancy spin when he sends her off.

But it wasn’t planned, and Annette and Hilda pick her up after the performance is over, Marianne set between the two. Hilda meets his eyes over her shoulder, uncharacteristically silent and serious.

That night she tells him, “I don’t think she’ll be able to perform tomorrow.”

“Right,” Yuri says. He’d known this would be a possibility when he’d first seen the performance dates. “Full moon, I know.” He’ll have to message Ashe later to give him a heads up, but no doubt he knows already as Marianne’s friend.

Hilda sighs. “I don’t see why she forced herself to do this. It’s weird for her to step out so suddenly.”

“It’s not a bad thing.”

“Of course not. I just can’t figure out her reason for auditioning in the first place.”

“She never told you?”

“No. Do you know?”

Should he meddle? Yuri takes a moment to see the roiling thoughts coiled unspoken inside Hilda’s mind, the concern and confusion. “After full moon, you should try asking her.”

He leaves with that, not wanting to say any more; that’s up to Marianne.

On the third and final performance day, Yuri’s in front of the curtains again, but this time Ashe is by his side, and his hands are shaking when he peeks at the audience, a sea of people in the bright lights waiting for the stars to appear.

“There’s so many people,” he whispers, awe and anxiety creeping into his voice.

“It is,” Yuri agrees. He would’ve thought there would be less considering it’s the final night, but the hall looks more or less filled. As expected of the drama club. “You’re nervous?”

Ashe’s grin is shaky. “Aren’t you?”

There’s no lack of privacy around them with the amount of people rushing about backstage, so Yuri settles for the same thing he did with Marianne, setting a hand on Ashe’s shoulder. “You’ll be fine. You’ve practiced this plenty of times with me, alone, and with other people. You may be Marianne’s understudy, but you worked just as hard as the rest of us. I believe in you, sparrow.”

Yuri lies easily. He guards his secrets like a dragon jealously guards its hoard, gives them away sparingly to people he trusts, and even that must be earned. Ashe knows this. He knows, but Yuri’s words build him back up anyway.

He nods determinedly. He looks like he wants to say something else, but he shuts his mouth and looks around them and only says, “Thanks, Yuri.” The warmth in his voice is enough to convey how he feels, and it, in turn, calms Yuri.

And the play begins.

Ashe is no actor the way Yuri or Dorothea can be, but the practice and effort pays off. Ashe sings and acts and his voice is clearly projected to the audience, meek when it needs to be, becoming bolder after Sophie’s cursed. Yuri waltzes inーhe is the wizard rumoured to steal young women’s hearts, mysterious, youthful, and powerful, a heavy drinker and a drama queen rolled into one messy package. But despite his contradictory actions, he’s still a good person, a fake runaway playing a game of chess that makes no sense to anyone but himself.

At the end of the musical, Howl’s a mess of red-rimmed eyes and torn clothing, recently had his heart returned to his body.

Howl says, “I’ve been wondering all along if you would turn out to be that lovely girl I met on May Day. Why were you so scared then?”

Ashe as Sophie stares back. He’s turned younger again, hair a sunset red-gold.

They ignore the others talking above them, Ashe’s hands in Yuri’s. It strikes him as something ironic then, that this is one of the few opportunities where he can hold Ashe’s hand and no one would think otherwise because they think it’s an act, even if it’s not; Ashe may be acting as Sophie and Yuri as Howl, but the hands Yuri holds is Ashe’s.

“I think we ought to live happily ever after,” Yuri says honestly. “It should be hair-raising,” he adds.

Ashe smiles wistfully. “And you’ll exploit me.”

“And then you’ll cut up all my suits to teach me.”

Happily ever after. How nice.

The others talk over them; Yuri is distracted by the tickling sensation of Ashe brushing a thumb back and forth over his palm, and he really can’t hold back a smile as he follows his lines: “Don’t bother me now. I only did it for the money.”

“Liar!” Ashe says. His smile is wider than his.

“I said,” Michael’s actor shouts, “that Calcifer’s come back!”

All at once, Yuri remembers what this is all for. Ashe squeezes his hand one last time like they were thinking the same, and though Yuri doesn’t want to, he turns away to finish this musical.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Hilda is the first to pounce on Yuri when he arrives at the Slytherin common room. “It’s over! How do you feel?”

“Honestly?” Yuri wobbles under her weight, dragging her with him to collapse on the couch. “A little sad it’s over.”

Hilda gasps dramatically, a hand over her mouth. “Don’t tell me Dorothea actually managed to convert you. You spent so long refusing her.”

“Oh, I don’t mean the actual performing, I meant the practice. Being with people. Making something together.” All that hard work poured into three nights. The stress from before unwinds like a coil unsprung, and Yuri stretches languidly out on the couch. “Felt like playing Quidditch.”

“Of course it always comes back to Quidditch with you.”

“I enjoyed seeing it,” Bernadetta says, a soft, pleased smile on her face. “It was nice to see everyone. I’m glad you all enjoyed it...”

“Awww, Bernie, no need to be so humble.” Dorothea swings an arm over her shoulder. “We all know we couldn’t have made it without you.”

“My parents really enjoyed the performance tonight,” Claude says, an odd twinkle in his eye. “My mother said it seemed like you guys got really swept up by the end of it.”

“Oh, you know. Final performance and all that.” Yuri waves it away.

“Ah, yeah, I suppose. She said you guys have some good chemistry, or something like that. I’m sure you know better than me what she meant.” Claude lifts his hands in the air and shrugs.

Yuri’s smile doesn’t reach his face. “Seeing as I wasn’t there when she said it, I really don’t.”

Dorothea says, “She probably meant that you guys look like really good friends.”

“Yup. What she said.” Claude coughs ‘friends’ into his fist without any discretion. “Anyway. How about that match Saturday?”

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The day of the final match, Yuri wakes with no one to remind him. He takes his time in the bathroom as the first to wake, goes over the strategies Claude has scribbled into their Quidditch notebook, and waits for the school to catch up. Solomon is the first of his roommates to wake; like Yuri, he monopolizes the washroom for an extended period of time until Cyril wakes and bangs on the door loud enough for Solomon to open the door with a dark scowl that seems to be directed at nothing in particularーregular morning annoyances, then. He leaves for breakfast as Claude stirs.

“‘Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Yuri says, seated on his own bed, already made. “Ready for the big day?”

Claude squints at him. A part of his hair sticks up at the top. “Who the fuck are you and where’s Yuri?”

“Surprised I actually woke up early for once?”

“Yes. Holy shit, did you wake up before Cyril?”

“I did.”

“Holy shit.” Claude rubs his face. “This feels like a dream.”

Yuri laughs. “Better wake up soon, then, or you’ll miss the match, co-captain.”

Claude’s delighted laugh follows him as he flounces out the doorway.

The few students in the Great Hall are abuzz with activity. A few students greet Yuri, while others give him the stink-eye, which is fair enough. A threatening-looking Hufflepuff looks about ready to make her way to him but is stopped by a hand on her shoulder; beside the student, Hapi sends Yuri a peace sign.

More students trickle in as Yuri eats breakfast, the nerves before the match making the food wooden and hard to swallow as he eats it as he normally would. Claude slides in beside Yuri to duck their heads together, eyeing the Hufflepuff table and their gathering Quidditch team as they discuss their strategies.

A few Slytherin students cheer as they leave the Great Hall. Yuri waves to a few of them as Claude does the same. Their team is gathered in one of the tents, and they’re quick to change as they hear the audience gathering outside. The day is sunny with a few clouds on the horizon; Yuri contemplates bringing his goggles as Constance snaps on her own and slaps on some magical sunscreen.

“Alright,” Claude says to their team. “Last match of the year! How are you guys feeling about this?”

They get a few shaky smiles, a few more people standing up straighter.

“Whatever extra burden you’re putting on yourself because of sentimentality and all that, because it’s us seventh years’ last match,” Yuri says, “discard it. You don’t need the baggage. This is like any other match, and we’re gonna play our usualーour best. That’s all I want to see from you guys today.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Claude says. “Though I wouldn’t mind if we all managed to pull ahead of the Hufflepuffs in points. A win is a win, y’know?” The team chuckles. Claude nudges Yuri’s shoulder. “Let’s go show them who’s best, yeah?”

They meet the Hufflepuffs on the pitch where they stand before each other with fixed polite smiles. He doesn’t understand where people got the idea that Hufflepuffs were nice, Yuri thinks as Sothis and Claude seem to share a brief game where they squeeze each other’s hands really hard and accomplish nothing but looking constipated. Yuri’s much more polite with Byleth, offering a short, solid handshake and saying, “Looking forward to losing the game today, Eisner?”

Byleth tilts his head. “Eisner?”

“I can’t call you a friend today since we’re opponents.”

“Oh. I see.” Byleth nods. “Let’s have fun, then.”

Alois blows the whistle, and they’re off.

Yuri circles the pitch, keeping an eye out for the Snitch while he vaguely follows Ashe’s trail, not wanting him to get close to the Snitch while Slytherin’s still begins in points. While Slytherin plays catch up, Yuri’s supposed to distract Ashe.

“Still no luck, huh?” Yuri sighs as he flies up to Ashe. Ten minutes into the game and Slytherin’s scored their first point. “This would be so much easier if we could just _Accio_ the Snitch.”

“That’d be cheating,” Ashe says automatically, eyes roving the field.

“It’s magic.” Yuri rolls his eyes. “This whole thing feels like a cheat compared to what Muggles are working with.”

“It’s still a little unbelievable, after all this time,” Ashe admits. “We live side by side magical things everyday, but sometimes I step back a little to see just how big the world really is. Like, I wouldn’t have met all of you if I weren’t a wizard.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Yuri says. “I can’t imagine a world without you, sparrow.”

“Neither can I.” Somehow, despite the fact that Yuri knew this, it still hits, softly like rain on skin. He’s gotten used to Ashe, yet not. He don’t think he’ll ever get used to Ashe.

The game goes on. Ashe doesn’t drive Yuri away as he tails him, though he’s surely figured out by now his strategy. But he doesn’t let Yuri distract him further, often cuts away suddenly or goes a different direction than Yuri expected as he tries to conform to Ashe’s flight patterns.

Slytherin’s in the lead by...a surprisingly large margin, thanks to the efforts of Slytherin’s beaters, Constance and Solomon, sending the team scattering anytime they have possession of the Quaffle. Hufflepuff’s beaters are chasing after them, leaving Slytherin chasers free to score.

A part of the crowd riles up in surprise; Yuri glances to see a student pointing at the air, where a small glittery thing flutters with false hummingbird wings. The Snitch.

He doesn’t wait for Claude’s signal, has done the calculations in his head and knows they’re ahead enough; he speeds forward, upward, above the cheering crowd. The Snitch is within distance. Yuri reaches forward. Below him in the stands, he sees a shadow racing behind him, and thenー

It catches up. The shadow on his tail collides with him as a hand grasps his, the Snitch caught between their hands.

The impact sends Yuri spinning, tugging Ashe with him to the pitch. Yuri shakes his head to clear it, looks at their conjoined hands, and can only say in this situation, “What the fuck.”

“Umーnot what I was planning to do,” Ashe says, flustered.

Yuri tugs at his hand. “Give me the Snitch.”

“You have it.”

“So do you! We’re holding hands.”

“I can see that,” Ashe says unhelpfully.

“Okay well, let go.”

“Can’t. You’ll get the Snitch if I do.”

Yuri gives another useless tug of frustration at their joined hands and grumbles. Innocently, Ashe says, “I thought you liked holding my hand.”

Ignoring the blush that threatens to crawl up his face, Yuri says, “I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Is it worth it?”

“What?”

“This. Keeping our relationship a secret, hiding it from everyone else.” Ashe shrugs, a strange frown pulling at his face, and their earlier lighthearted air falls away. “I’ve been giving it a lot of thought lately. It’s almost the end of the year. Does it matter now for people to know we’re dating?”

Around them, Yuri makes out the noise of the crowd, laughing at their predicament, Flayn’s trembling voice as she holds back laughter and announces, _“It appears the two seekers have been caught in a predicament....professor? Professor Shamir, has this ever happened in a Quidditch match before...”_

Yuri’s voice shakes. “You know why I decided to do this.”

“I know that you need to join an international Quidditch team by the time you graduate. That doesn’t change the fact that the only reason why we can’t date is because a hat decided to sort us into different houses when we were eleven,” Ashe says. “Are you really letting a hat get between what we could have?”

“That’s not what this is about.”

“Then tell me, what is it about?” Ashe’s voice falters. “I know it’s not me. You would’ve broken up with me by now if you were ashamed to be with me.”

Yuri draws up short. “No. No, of course it’s not you, it’s never you.”

“Then what is it?”

Glancing at the people watching them, Yuri lets out a faint, hopeless laugh. “Merlin, sparrow, you couldn’t have chosen a worse time to ask. Couldn’t this have waited until we were alone?” Preferably not in the middle of a match?

“I didn’t think you would answer honestly if I were to set time aside for it. You’re not even answering now,” Ashe points out.

Yuri exhales sharply. “We weren’t supposed to last.”

“What?”

“I thought you would get tired of me before the year was over,” Yuri says, sees from the corner of his eye Constance flying past and ignores whatever hand signal she sends his way. “I thought you wouldn’t want to stay with me after you saw what I was really like.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, _oh_.” Yuri tilts his head closer to Ashe’s face. “Are you mad at me?”

Ashe’s face twists with emotion, difficult to decipher, a mixture of confusion-doubt-acceptance. “No. I’m just sad that you thought that. It’s been almost a year, and I’m still not tired of you, Yuri. I doubt I ever will be.”

“I don’t understand you," Yuri says. It's the only thing he can think to say in this moment.

“It’s very simple,” Ashe says earnestly. There’s a blush climbing up his face that he doesn’t bother hiding. “I like you, you like me, and neither of us are tired of each other yet, so what’s stopping us?”

Screw Ashe and his ability to be so straightforward all the time and surprise Yuri into silence.

“You are so...frustrating to deal with, sometimes,” Yuri says honestly.

Ashe tilts his head in confusion. “Sorry?”

Yuri groans. “Stop it, now you’re just being _endearing_.”

“I’m not doing anything?”

“Just you as you are is more than enough.” Yuri glances down at their hands, still joined together awkwardly through Quidditch gloves and a flighty Snitch. He waggles his fingers. “You want this, then? You want people to know?”

“Do _you_ want people to know?” Ashe asks in return. “I know what I want, but in the end it’s your decision.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“What?”

“Dating me.”

Ashe smiles. “I’m already dating you, Yuri.”

Yuri purses his lips to try and hold back a smile. “You’re not wrong there. Okay, then. Time to seal the deal.”

“Hm?”

Ashe doesn’t say anything after that, mostly because Yuri’s yanked them both violently by their joined hands to send them spinning wildly downwards to crash on the Quidditch pitch. Yuri braces for impact as he tumbles off his broom, keeps his hand in Ashe’s right as the boy beside him falls. Yuri finds him on the ground, unhurt but dirty, and can’t stop himself from laughing at the both of them and their stupid, stupid life decisions that led them here. He does not run off like a thief in the night this time. There is no night to hide in, no play to use as a cover as he reaches up to pull Ashe forward into a kiss. It is not their first, and it won’t be their last. Yuri still trembles; his heart is still undone as Ashe gently places a hand at the back of Yuri’s neck, pulls him closer while smiling.

He makes out the cheering crowd as he pulls away for air. Flayn is still doing her job as announcer: _“Ahaha congratulations! It seems the two seekers have decided to...actually, I don’t know. I don’t know what that just was but it looked very intimate and_ none _of my business. Moving on! Professor Shamir, I don’t know what the points in this match are anymoreー”_

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


It’s almost the most disappointing match of Yuri’s entire Quidditch career if it weren’t for the fact that he got to kiss Ashe. In the end, the extra 150 points for capturing the Snitch were given to both teams. Slytherin won the match, but when they tallied up the final points for the Quidditch Cup...

“We tied?” Yuri says blankly.

“We were so far ahead, too...” Claude says mournfully. “Well, this just proves how far ahead of us Hufflepuff already was in terms of points. We’ll get back at them next year.”

“We won’t be here next year,” Constance reminds him.

“Yeah, but the rest of our team certainly will. If only we could be there to see them have their revenge.” Claude sighs. “Oh, well. Let’s clean up.”

There’s a person waiting outside the pitch as the team leaves, not someone Yuri knows, but Solomon stops. “What are _you_ doing here?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not here for you.” The person rolls their eyes, hands stuffed casually into the pockets of a cloak too thick for a day as warm as this but somehow managing to look unmoved in the weather. “I’m here for Slytherin’s Seeker.”

“Oh, good. I’m leaving.” And Solomon does just that, the rest of the Slytherin players at his tail. Claude raises a brow between the two but doesn’t stick around as the person stares them down until he and Constance also return to the castle, leaving Yuri with the stranger.

They sigh. “I kind of hate my job.”

“Who are you?”

“Oh, I’mーno one important.” They wave their hand vaguely.

Yuri takes in their stature, their short black hair and dark skin, the way the irritability on their face is familiar. “You’re Solomon’s older sibling?”

“Unfortunate for the both of us,” they say flatly. “That’s not why I’m here, though. My name is Orion Blackthorn.”

“Yuri Leclerc. You said you wanted something from the Slytherin’s Seeker, and that’s me. What did you need?”

Orion’s eyes shine in the hooded darkness of the stands. “I’m here to make you an offer you can’t refuse.”

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The fact that exam week is almost upon them doesn’t stop Yuri and Ashe from making their own plans, because they’re seniors with a case a senioritis and if they want to have a picnic then by Merlin they’ll have their fucking picnic.

They decidedly have it somewhere not in view of the Whomping Willow, for obvious reasons. It’s morning, or evening, orーactually, Yuri doesn’t know, because he’s been lying in Ashe’s lap for so long he’s forgotten the concept of time. The only concept he can possibly perceive now are Ashe’s thighs, which is what he’s laying on, and Ashe’s hands, which are running through his hair, and just Ashe in general. Yuri’s been zoning in and out of the conversation as Ashe talks, or plays music, or simply takes in the warm silence of a spring day with Yuri.

“We should’ve made our relationship public sooner,” Yuri mumbles. “Then we could’ve done this more often.”

“Well, maybe,” Ashe says. “That won’t stop us from doing this again in the future, though.”

Yuri hums, though his thoughts snag on Ashe’s sentence. “Sparrow?”

“Hm?”

“How long do you think we’ll keep our relationship?” Yuri says it casually, but his heart thuds louder in his ears; he feels like he’s jolted himself awake.

Ashe’s brows furrow. Carefully, he says, “As long as you want? Don’t get me wrong,” he adds, “I just haven’t thought about where our relationship is going after graduation. We both have our own goals but, um, if you’d like to keep dating after graduation. I would like that very much.”

“You’d like that, huh,” Yuri says teasingly. “You’d like that very much.”

“I just said that.” Yuri can tell how flustered he is by how fluttery his hands have become in his hair. It’s cute.

Yuri closes his eyes. “That’s good,” he murmurs. “I want that, too.”

Yuri hears the smile on Ashe’s voice as he says, “I’m glad you feel the same.”

Yuri’s glad, too. More than. It’s the kind of feeling equivalent to soaking in sunlight or sinking into a warm bed of pillows, all soft.

“I got scouted by a Quidditch team.”

“Really?!” Ashe’s hands are on either side of Yuri’s face; when he opens his eyes, it’s to an upside down view of Ashe. “That’s great! Which team?”

“Oh, you know, the one that’s been making a resurgence lately,” Yuri says. He’s still considering the offer now, after looking over the team’s stats, and he’ll be telling Orion his decision after final exams, though his answer is obvious to him. “The Ashen Wolves. Have you heard of them?”

“Have I heard ofーYuri, their keeper is _national level_! Azure’s one of the best keepers there is in this generation!”

“Ehh, he’s such a klutz, though.”

“I mean, I think it depends on where he is on the pitchーbut you can’t forget the twin beaters, they’re also formidableー”

They continue discussing Yuri’s potential future team as the sun wanes and the temperature drops, but their bodies stay warm, and their hearts, warmer. Yuri closes his eyes and doesn’t worry about the future and for a moment he thinks, with a vague feeling in mindー

“Maybe I can do it now,” he says, interrupting Ashe’s spiel about the Holyhead Harpies.

“Do what?”

Not bothering with a proper stance, still lying in Ashe’s lap, Yuri draws out his wand and says, “ _Expecto Patronum_.” A small animal bursts out his wand, flies a lap around their heads before landing on Ashe’s open hand. The silver mist solidifies.

Ashe draws it closer to his face. “It’s a bird."

“It’s a mockingbird,” Yuri says, and smiles; he wasn’t expecting anything else.

“That’sーoh, you did it, Yuri! I always thought you could.” The patronus vanishes into mist, but Ashe cradles Yuri’s face, a smile so wide it looks like it can split his face. “What were you thinking of?”

“It’s always you,” Yuri says easily, watching Ashe turn shades of red. “But, mainly that moment on the pitch.”

“Oh, right. Did you know Hilda filmed that moment?”

“What.”

“She wanted to add it to the yearbook for relevant momentsー”

Silently, Yuri adds Hilda to his murder list - _again_ \- as he sighs and draws closer to Ashe, their foreheads meeting upsidedown. Ashe quiets, but when Yuri reaches up, he can feel his smile on his face, traces it with his hands and shivers as Ashe’s laughter hits his hands, feels like he’s cradling sunlight.

Yuri sits up and turns, just to quiet Ashe with his lips on his.

He doesn’t know what the future holds in store for them, but he hopes Ashe will be with him.

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


My dearest mockingbird,

Did you know there was such a thing to be splinched between time? It’s what happens when you’re stuck between two or more time eras at once; your physical being essentially disappears, and most people who know you wouldn’t be able to find you. It sounds incredibly painful. That ended up being the situation with Aldrin’s “ghost.”

Their name is Ryuu, and five years ago they were “time-splinched” because of a situation they accidentally got caught in. Aldrin is apparently keeping track of their condition per the Ministry’s orders. They’re only here a few months more due to some business nearby, but they’ll be leaving soon. I suppose I’ll just have to invite them over for tea more often before they leave.

I hope Marianne is feeling better. You said she took ill and couldn’t perform on the final night? Nonetheless, her understudy performed quite well. That was your friend Ashe, wasn’t it?

And your performance was perfect. I couldn’t have expected more from you, my sweet mockingbird. I’m so proud of all you’ve done. You know that, don’t you?

But Ashe isn’t just your friend anymore, according to what you told me of your last Quidditch match. While I am sorry for you that you tied in the competition - I’m sure you both tried your best - when can I meet him? Is he free over the summer? Can I owl him?

And finallyーscouted by a Quidditch team! I always knew you had it in you, it just took someone seeing your potential for you to earn your well-deserved rewards, the fruits of your labour. As always, no matter what you do, you continue to make me proud.

  
  
  


With all my love,

Mama Mockingbird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine that the next headmaster of Hogwarts (possibly Cyril) decided that the sorting would happen for all students every year at the start of each year. This way, students interact with each other more, different roommates + Quidditch teams each year, and it accounts for the fact that kids’ ideals can change from when they were eleven; maybe they don’t need the bravery of a Gryffindor anymore bc they already have it, but now need the pure drive of a Ravenclaw. That sort of thing. I’d assume that with the amount of time that takes tho, they’d do it outside of the Sorting Hat Ceremony, per grade, so maybe school would start a little earlier for enough time for that. I also imagine they’d begin accepting different races bc let’s face it, they should be attending by now. Ofc, there’s the question of which races would be allowed to attend (humanoid only, etc) but uhh, they can deal with that, bc I don’t have the brain cells. All in all, they’d have a lot to learn from each other
> 
> Aldrin and Ryuu’s case is inspired by the drarry fic [Running on Air](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3171550/chapters/6887378), but they’re not...technically from this universe, so that may have been the reason they told Yuri’s mom, but uhhh those clowns definitely aren’t wizards lmao. Dw bout it!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
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**Author's Note:**

> At first I was gonna use the professors’ last names, but then I realized, 1) if I don’t know them, who actually knows them, and 2) this would be confusing since Shamir and Catherine would have the same last name
> 
> [Here](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1QM_52efPsmxJ5rxykhZfRoMtwsGMK85Sfuu8ll3yMoY/edit?usp=sharing) is a link to the doc for this au, which includes info on the Hogwarts dorms, characters’ wand types, etc., and a link to the spreadsheet that has info on the classes characters are taking, some of their timestables, and some clubs in Hogwarts, for a better understanding of this Hogwarts au specifically. Also I’d like to apologize(?) for including Balthus. I forgot he was older and closer to Holst’s age and therefore wouldn’t appear in this fic but by the time I realized I was on the sixth chapter and was Not about to yeet his ass from this au


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